


Blank Out

by hellsinki



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alchemy is badass, Angst, Canon Divergence, Dubious Consent, F/M, M/M, Mind Rape, Minor Barry Allen/Iris West, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Savitar who?, This fic is entirely dedicated to Julian Albert, Time Travel, also pining, altho i hurt him so much in this fic hes my precious son, barry means well but he keeps messing things up, lots and lots of angst, lovers to enemies to intense pining, overprotective!Caitlin, some description of sex and nudity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-30 04:38:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 48,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8518807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellsinki/pseuds/hellsinki
Summary: Barry Allen has superhuman speed, superhuman strength and superhuman perceptions. He can travel through time, create speed mirages and time remnants. But when it comes to facing his mistakes, he’d rather just run. When it comes to learning about the painful truth, he just wants to hide. When it comes to Julian Albert, he’s really just a mess....and he would do anything, anything at all, to have Julian back in his life.





	1. Chapter 1

> _ We built our castle from tender heartstrings and now there is nothing left but aching tendrils, swaying mournfully in the autumn breeze.  _

 

He takes Julian out for a drink and he doesn’t know why. It’s not that there isn’t any reason, there are just too many; _possible_ reasons that could or could not be true, reasons that would demand a lot of courage on his part to admit their relevance. Barry has always prided himself on his bravery, so much so that Cisco had taken to call him a Gryffindor for a while. But for some reason, some vague, probably unsavory reason, he is afraid to delve into the inner workings of his intention for asking Julian out for a drink, for being in his presence somewhere outside of work, for acknowledging him as a friend and not merely a coworker, for allowing himself to actually enjoy his company, despite the arrogant, condescending tone, the aloof posture and cutting retorts, to allow his gaze to linger on an unruly blond curl, stumble across bright blue eyes, and slide smoothly over pouting lips. In an almost drunken haze that he hasn’t felt since he became a speedster, he listens to Julian’s British-accented voice, grasping the words as if coming from a television presenter in the background, not completely focused. Where _is_ his focus? Julian wets his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, and Barry’s heart gives an odd flutter in his chest.

“You’re different, Allen.”

There is something alarming about that statement which hauls Barry out of his artificial drunken stupor and drops him right in the middle of a conversation he has barely contributed to.

“Different?” He tries to buy time as his mind goes on a panicked search for words, half-truths, logical explanations, plausible reasons. _Anything_ , other than this black hole he’s currently being dragged into.

“You act like you don’t remember.”

He needs to think of a way out of this, a playful comment to divert attention, but the words leave his mouth before that could happen; “Remember what?”

There is a pause, like Julian is doing what Barry was too impulsive to do – thinking before deciding what to say – then Julian gives him a funny look, an odd mixture of incredulity, pain, relief, anger – like he can't really decide which one is the most accurate or the one he wishes Barry to see. It makes Barry feel very uncomfortable.

“Oh god, you really don't remember.”

His voice breaks into a half-sob/half-chortle, like he’s choking on suppressed emotions. The pain is just too damn close to the surface but Julian is doing an admirable job in pushing it back.

“Julian?” His tone is laced with worry, although he isn't sure if it’s directed at Julian or himself. How’s this conversation going to conclude?

“Barry.”

It would have completely gone over Barry’s head that Julian had just called him by his first name if it weren't for that goddamn tone in which his name was whispered. _Reverently_ , in a way. With urgency, pained and hopeful at the same time. Like his name held the whole meaning of universe in each of its letter. Barry is almost compelled to say, ‘yes, my love?’ as if this has happened before, like déjà vu, or a recurring dream. Maybe, does he dare think it, a lost memory?

“I have to go.”

The reverent tone is gone, the spell is broken, the worlds shift backwards and the reality Barry is familiar with slides back into place. Julian hastily gets up from his stool, grabs his coat and throws it on without even sparing him a glance. Suddenly it feels like the end of the world with Barry standing stupidly in the middle of absolute nothingness, paralyzed with fear and despair.

“Wait, Julian…” He shouts at his fast retreating back, but Julian doesn't stop, doesn't look back at the apocalypse he is leaving behind.

Something of tremendous importance has just happened but Barry doesn't know what. Not that he can't think of any possibilities. He’s just too scared to think about them now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm bringing lots of angst to the Allenbert fandom and I'm sorry for that (not really). I just really love the idea of the alternate (?) Barry and Julian having shared a history before it went all to hell because somebody fucked up. Now the actual Barry has to deal with all the mess in the new timeline while trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Updates will probably take a while, but I will do my best, and hopefully you'll enjoy this fic as much as I did in my head :D


	2. Chapter 2

 

> _We lied once on a makeshift bed made of yellow straws and happy endings, fingers laced together ready for almost anything. Heads tilted up toward the aging sky, we knew nothing and believed in everything._

 

The silent treatment at the lab is stifling. Barry makes sure to spend as less time in there as possible, and oddly enough, Julian doesn’t seem to mind. He doesn’t stop him from leaving the precinct too early to lecture him about work etiquette. He doesn’t make a smartass comment about Barry’s disheveled appearance when he comes into lab right after a chase around the city or the phone interruption from Iris that demands his assistance with an article of hers, which is really just a codename for trouble at the S.T.A.R. Labs. Barry doesn’t like the silence, the terrible feeling of being ignored by that one person whose attention Barry craves the most, but he can’t do anything about it. Not when questions could lead to unpleasant discoveries of a past that he didn’t even live.

“Barry, what’s wrong? You’ve been rather distant lately,” Caitlin’s voice, although as gentle as ever, startles him out of his reverie. They aren’t working on any particular case at the moment, but he needed to get away from CCPD, from his lab and the person whose thought has been giving Barry’s confused mind so much pain lately.

“No, I’m just…,” he can’t help the sigh that escapes through his lips and the hand that rubs down at his tired face. He _is_ tired. He hasn’t had a good night’s sleep since three days ago at the bar, where he sat there for a long while just looking at Julian without feeling the need to roll his eyes and be annoyed; where he listened to the man’s deep voice telling him little snippets of his turbulent life, where Julian opened up to him as if he trusted Barry, or really wanted him to listen, to learn more about him and come to trust _him_ , or was it just the alcohol talking? God, if only he could get drunk now.  

“Barry, what is it? You can talk to me.” She sounds worried now, and that isn't good. Barry hates to involve Caitlin in his own troubles, because she already has a lot on her plate but barely reaches out to others for comfort. It isn't fair to burden her like this, when she is so closed-off about her own issues.

But Barry is so tired of this stalemate. He wants a way out and Caitlin is offering him one. How could he possibly resist?

“It’s about Julian.” He sighs again and watches Caitlin’s expression closely. She looks guarded. It is painfully obvious that she's keeping her reaction in check.

“Go on.” She comes sit down next to him in the Cortex. It’s a slow, quiet day at the S.T.A.R. Labs with Cisco and H.R. down at the workshop, working on a new invention or more likely arguing over something. Without any meta activity, it should be peaceful, but Barry’s mind feels far from it.

“It's so…,” he tries to grab for words, but nothing seems to be capable of describing how he is feeling right now. “Everything about him is so confusing.”

“How so?” She still sounds reserved, like she is being extra careful not to let out any information too soon.

“Well...I took him out for drinks the other night and he was…”

“Wait, you took him out?,” Caitlin interrupts with an incredulous voice, “and he actually came along?”

“Yeah, is that weird?” Barry asks with knitted brows.

Caitlin looks away for a moment, putting a lock of dark blonde hair behind her ear. “It's...he hasn't done that for a long time. Not that you ever asked him out during this time but the fact that he accepted…,” she trails off.

“So it was weird,” Barry thinks about Julian’s expression when he asked him out for drinks. He had a sad little smile on, and his eyes looked resigned, or was that hopefulness? It was hard to tell in the dim light of the lab, and Julian was always hard to read. “I guess it was because he wasn't feeling like his usual self that night.”

Caitlin’s brows draw together in worry. “Why? What happened?”

“Well, he almost killed a kid that night; the one that was wreaking havoc in the city with that holographic monster of his. I saved the kid from the bullet. I mean me as the Flash and he...he was grateful.”

“He’s a good man,” she says that like she knows him on a very personal level, or at least knows something about him no one else does. Barry intends to find out what.

“Yeah...yeah he is,” because despite everything, the bad blood and the rocky history between them that Barry knows almost nothing about, Julian is part of the police force who spends almost all of his time protecting the people. Barry can respect that, if nothing else. “Anyway, back at the bar as he was talking I realized that I didn't mind him so much. I mean, I actually enjoyed his company...like a lot.”

“That's great news Barry,” she gives him a reassuring smile. “Why are you so stressed over this?”

The question actually manages to throw him off-guard. “Uhm...I’m not so sure yet...I just...what I feel...what he makes me feel…”

He trails off, looking off distractedly into distance. He has never been this afraid of analyzing his feelings and getting to the bottom of a situation before. It was unsettling but at least reasonable to feel agitated towards Julian and his supercilious attitude. Saying ‘I hate this guy’ out loud felt natural and not in the least bit discomfiting. But when it came down to a different kind of feeling, when it came down to realizing the first sign of attraction to someone that he really should be just avoiding, that was... _terrifying_.

“Barry?”

He turns sharply toward Caitlin who is looking at him with so much concern it actually feels like fear.

“Sorry I’m not being very eloquent right now.”

Caitlin gives him a tight-lipped smile, her eyes softening at him as if he is a fine china doll balanced precariously on the edge of the shelf and the world’s strongest hurricane is headed their way.

She places her hand on top of his and gives a gentle squeeze, “It's ok Barry. You're just confused.”

Confusion. He's even sick of hearing that word.

“Yeah, it's like I'm missing this great chunk of my life and I don't know where I stand,” he stands up and runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “I mean, Julian...he's the only person in my life right now that didn't exist in the original timeline and now I have to spend a lot of time around him and I know he's hiding a lot of stuff from me. Well, hiding isn't the right word ‘cause he probably thinks I know them already...but the thing is I don't. I have no fucking clue about our past and it just keeps coming up during our conversation and I'm not sure how long I can keep pretending that I know why we hate each other so much.”

He stops pacing around the Cortex and leans heavily against the glassboard, uncharacteristically out of breath. He avoids Caitlin’s eyes. “And then there's this thing…”

“What thing?”

“The way I’m beginning to feel about him,” he rests his head against the glassboard and closes his eyes. He isn’t sure being this honest with Caitlin on this issue is a good idea, especially since he’s already getting a bad vibe from the whole scenario, but he has always been careless when at a loss for what to do and so tells her anyway, “it's so damn confusing Cait.”

He lets out a sigh and opens his eyes, looking directly at Caitlin’s worried ones. “I mean, I have never felt like this around a man before and I know Iris is the only one I have ever cared about on that level and…”

“Oh Barry…,” she sounds exhausted, and with her hands now covering half of her face, she looks defeated. Barry knew feeling attracted to someone like Julian was bad news, but Caitlin's reaction made the situation look all the more despairing. There must be something more to the whole story.

“Caitlin? You know something, don't you?”

Caitlin looks up and for a moment her eyes look red-rimmed before the next blink returns them to normal. “Yes,” she admits curtly.

“Then tell me!” He walks toward Caitlin’s seated form and places his hands on the desk, leaning forward, “Please!” He’s begging her now and it's terrifying how much he yearns to know what he is hoping against hope that will not be true.

“Are you sure you want to know?” She says softly, her hands clenched tightly and her nails digging into her skin.

Barry slumps bonelessly into his seat and shakes his head; “No, but I’m so tired of being confused all the time.”

Caitlin nods her head in understanding and bites down at her lip. Barry almost hates himself for making her go through all this drama because of him.

“I think you have already guessed that, but if it’s confirmation you want, then yes, you and Julian used to be very close.” She sounds resigned.

“How close?” In for a penny, in for a pound.

“You were actually going to move in together.”

 _Jesus_. “That serious?”

“Well, you two are... _were_ very compatible. And you worked really good together. You even enjoyed the same kind of music and movies...honestly, I had never seen a couple as like-minded as you two.” There is something very sad in the faint smile that she gives him as she remembers the past that Barry doesn’t share with any of them.

“Then what happened? If we were so good together, why do we hate each other’s guts now?”

Caitlin shrugs her slender shoulders gracefully. “That is something I can’t tell you. I just know that there was a terrible fight and the next day you couldn’t stand being in the same room as Julian.”

“So it must have been something he did,” Barry concludes as he slumps further into his seat, looking up at the ceiling.

“It looked that way, but the two of you were really unforthcoming about the whole thing. You had specifically forbidden us from saying anything Julian-related in your presence.”

“How long ago was that?” He turns his eyes back to Caitlin, who doesn’t look very comfortable with sharing this kind of information with him.

“Well, you two met almost a year ago at the precinct, and almost instantly hit it off. You started going out a month later, although we found out about it at Julian’s birthday three months later where you announced the news to me, Cisco and Iris. Six months into your relationship and that fight happened. You have been antagonistic toward each other for almost four months now.”

It felt so strange hearing about his life - the one that he didn't even live -  from somebody else’s perspective, almost like an out of body experience. If it weren’t for Caitlin talking about these things now, Barry would have never known. And this was supposed to be _his_ life. “You weren't going to tell me, were you? I mean, if I hadn't brought it up, you would have never said anything.”

Caitlin shakes her head, “no, I wouldn't.” She sounds unapologetic.

“Why not?” Barry asks in confusion.  

“I thought Julian needed a break.” She averts her eyes, worrying her lip again.

“A break? From what?”

She locks eyes with him, “From you,” she says in a firm tone, and Barry has to give a little, disarming laugh to dissipate the suddenly serious, stifling air.

“You know this thing with me and Iris,” he begins uncertainly, feeling at a loss for what he is even trying to communicate at this point. “...no matter what kind of parallel universe or alternate reality we end up in, we’re always destined to be together.” He gives a short, bitter laugh and shakes his head in disbelief. “But now with Julian...I don't get it at all. I don't know what to do with him.”

It happens so suddenly. Caitlin jumps to her feet and slams the palms of her hands on the desk in front of Barry, looking scary and dangerous with pale eyes and a very cold aura about her. Barry’s mind flashes ‘Killer Frost’ but that is ridiculous.“Stay away from him.”

“What?” He asks dumbly, almost fearfully, still feeling the cold emanating from Caitlin’s hard stare. It's so unsettling.

His startled look brings Caitlin back to herself. She looks down at her hands still firmly pressed against the desk, and blinks in confusion. The coldness leaves the space between their bodies as quickly as it had appeared and Barry wonders if he hadn't imagined the whole thing.

“Sorry,” she takes a step back and breathes slowly through her mouth. She takes a few seconds to compose herself, then continues in her usual gentle voice, “I mean it’s not my business and I’m sure Julian must have done something truly horrible for you to have turned your back on everything you shared together like that but...if he deserved the pain then, he doesn't deserve it now, so please don't get involved with him again.”

“You think I’m gonna hurt him.” He looks at Caitlin with incredulity, like he can't believe that his close friend of some three years with whom he has been through hell and back thinks so lowly of him. Maybe the Flashpoint has messed up with his life more than it initially met the eyes.

Caitlin gives him a sympathetic smile, but her eyes still gaze at him with a hardness that he had only seen during the time she had been mourning for Ronnie. “You love Iris now. Of course you are.”

Barry slightly deflates, conceding to the fact that Caitlin has a point. “I...I’m so fucking confused Cait. I don't want to feel about him this way, I swear I don’t, but I can’t help it. Just the sight of him, hell even the thought of him, like right now, it burns on my mind like some kind of...some kind of _ancient_ yearning and here you're telling me we used to be s-so in... _love_ for god’s sake! Jesus, this is so messed-up.”

Barry throws his arms up in the air, and huffs in exasperation. He has always been a disappointment when it came to dealing with uncharted emotional territories, but he really needs to get a grip.

Sensing his distress, Caitlin reaches her hand to touch Barry’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort. Barry lets his head fall on his chest. “Yes, and that's why you need to keep your distance, Barry. Be friendly and kind to him but don't become romantically involved.”

Barry knows she’s right. Hell, when was the last time that she wasn’t? Being anything to Julian other than a simple coworker is basically a recipe for disaster and Barry has had enough disasters to last him a lifetime or two.

He brings his head up, and makes sure his expression does not give away how wretched he is feeling inside. “Okay.”

Caitlin’s smile is both grateful and harrowing at the same time. “Thank you, Barry.”

Barry feels like throwing up, but he smiles back. He isn’t sure how his smile looked on his tired face, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So episode 7 synopsis (Killer Frost kidnaps Julian) made me want to have Caitlin kind of close to Julian, so here we have an overprotective Caitlin trying to save Julian from Barry's lustful clutches lol. I'm also acknowledging Barry/Iris because I love to make things more difficult than i'm comfortable with :D *hint* Barry is really awful at keeping his promises ( /)w(\\)


	3. Chapter 3

> _ You were a well-disguised mourning memory swinging to and fro in the roaring wind, and I but an inconsequential tragedy forever in the making.  _

 

“I thought I told you this internship we did last week is completely over?”

In the span of the four days since Barry decided to make himself scarce at the CCPD to avoid the weight of Julian’s unrelenting presence against the forefront of his thoughts, the British CSI specialist, Barry notices, has gone through some subtle changes. He is clean-shaven for one, and is wearing a loose-fitted brown tee with the top button undone under his gray cashmere coat, thus forgoing the ever present vest and tie. His appearance looks more relaxed than usual, Barry notices with envy, no sign of sleep deprivation or stress or late night brooding visible on his features. Barry doesn’t know what he had been hoping to see of Julian’s reaction to his showing up at the crime scene (a warmer greeting? A more profound objection? More silent treatment?) but he feels disappointed, nonetheless.

“Yeah, well it was a slow day at the precinct so I thought I’d join you.”

He squats down on the other side of the body of a Chinese businessman found strangled by the river in Chubbuck, his mind miles away from the actual task at hand.

“No stealing any samples Allen, ‘cause I would know.” Julian says without even looking up, blue eyes focused on the fingerprints around the victim’s neck and his fractured larynx.

“I would never.” Barry says defensively, causing Julian to look up at him with an unamused wariness.

“Right.”

Julian spends the next ten minutes looking for any forensic evidence that would lead them to identify the attacker beyond the shaky claim of some witnesses that it was a ‘shadow’ that did this, while Barry, determined to know as much about his coworker as possible without raising suspicion, goes through some mental exercises to coax himself into engaging Julian in a friendly conversation.  

“I was meaning to ask you,” he finally starts with uncertainty, following the careful movements of Julian’s latex-gloved hands over the victim’s body, “why did you agree to go out for drinks with me that night?”

Julian gives a little sigh, and looks to the side, “I was in a bad place, didn’t want to be left alone with my...thoughts,” he then turns those pale blue eyes to Barry, giving him a hard stare. “Don’t turn this into anything more than that, Allen.”

Barry raises his shoulders in a disarming shrug, “No, why would I? I mean, it was just a friendly gesture, right? To wrap up a shitty day in the best way we could?” He swallows hard at the end, feeling apprehensive of Julian’s warning tone.

The blond man curls his lips in a disdainful sneer, “Of course.” and goes back to his inspections.

This time, it only takes Barry a full two minutes before he gathers enough courage to talk to Julian again.

“So, you know, the other day you told me you had four years’ training in the military. I have been wondering about it ever since,” Barry makes a short pause to gauge Julian’s reaction who still finds a dead body more interesting than him, “about, you know, how it came about, because you don’t exactly strike me as someone with that kind of...temperament?”

This finally gets Julian’s attention, “What do you mean? What kind of temperament?”

Barry gestures around wildly, “uhm...you know, you are all into the scientific aspect of things, all theories and explanations, the usual nerdy stuff?” He laughs a little, but the unamused expression on Julian’s face stops him short, “I mean like me? I can never imagine myself holding a gun.”

To his confession, Julian cracks a little smile that is still too edgy to look friendly. Barry wonders if he has ever smiled at someone nicely. Was _he_ used to be that someone? “Well Allen, needs must when the devil drives.”

“Ok, but what kind of devil?” He insists. He has a feeling this is his last chance at setting things right with Julian. Or maybe it’s just the aloof apprehensiveness in Julian’s blue eyes, the rigidness in his shoulders, and the careless way in which he keeps pushing Barry away, that makes Barry feel he has already lost the game before he even began.

“Why are you so interested in my life all of a sudden?” His tone is accusing and Barry’s bravado immediately vanishes.

“Uh...just making conversation?”

Julian sneers at him, like Barry is a five-year-old child asking his parents about the philosophy of existence. “Allen, we are at a crime scene standing over a dead body. What we need to do is inspecting the area and searching for clues, not making conversation.”

“Ok, but can’t we do both?”

“You don’t ever give up, do you?” There is an underlying sadness in that one innocuous sentence that makes Barry feel there is a whole history of unresolved conflicts behind it.

Despite the sinking feeling in his chest, Barry gives him a winning smile. Julian sighs deeply as he takes off his gloves, apparently done with his corpse analysis for the day.

“Well I’ve already told you, I hate feeling powerless,” he looks pointedly at Barry, as if he’s trying to communicate something through his gaze. Barry fails to get it beyond the fact that Julian has beautifully expressive eyes. “I took up military training to never let that feeling creep up on me again.”

“So...have you ever...killed someone? I mean, with the gun, after the training and all?”

Barry doesn't know why he asked it; why he wanted to know if Julian has ever killed someone with a gun. What does it matter? What could it possibly change? But he has this feeling of apprehension, nonetheless, as he waits for Julian’s answer.

Julian just looks at him for several stressful seconds, something in his eyes uncomfortably painful. Like he’s about to break down in the next minute or just break him. “Well, ironically enough, Allen, that one time that I actually did kill someone with a gun came before I even got the training.”

There’s an unkind expression on Julian’s face, like he's remembering an awful past and hates Barry’s guts for making him go through it again, and though Barry knows better, he asks anyway, “Oh...what was the...situation?”

For a moment, Julian looks so fragile with his slightly drooping shoulders and downcast eyes, as if a shadow of inevitability has cast all over his will to fight back. Barry just wishes he could reach out and place his hand gently on Julian’s nape and move his fingers upward to card through the unruly blond curls at the back of his head. It will make him feel safe, Barry thinks. He isn't sure how he knows but he does.

“This stays between us,” comes the reply at last, which sounds more like a demand than a request.

“Of course.”

Julian looks around. The people gathering at the crime scene have already left the area, and only one police car remains several feet away from the red tapes, with the officer inside busy eating a burger. The sky looks like it's about to pour down on them any minute, but Barry doesn't want to leave yet. He’d stay with Julian under the pulsating rain and devour every word that comes through those pouting lips whose taste Barry aches to learn. If this, too, feels like another unlived memory, Barry is too focused on Julian’s lips to care.

“I was 15 years old when I was kidnapped for ransom,” he starts in a carefully dispassionate tone, walking slowly toward the river. There is a soft breeze gliding over the water, creating gentle ripples on the surface, and moving lazily through Julian’s hair, blowing the longer strands into his eyes. He has his back to Barry, shoulders tense and hands clenched into fists. Barry gives him the privacy he needs, but he is aching to put his arms around the British man and give him a tight hug.

“For ten days, I was kept captive by a sick, perverted bastard who hurt me physically and mentally, didn’t even feed me much. I was...terrified,” his voice breaks ever-so-slightly as he gives a short, bitter laugh. Barry unconsciously moves closer. “After the seventh day, I lost all hope of ever getting out of it alive. On the tenth day, by some...miraculous chance, I managed to grab the gun from his hand and point it right back at him.”

He suddenly turns around to face Barry, eyes slightly wet but the corner of his mouth raised in a parody of a fond smile. “I pulled the trigger like the way I saw they did in the films. He...died.”

His stoic expression doesn’t give away the turmoil he must surely be feeling for reliving the memory of his being tortured and then forced to kill, but Barry knows he should not trust that stony face, that nonchalance, that little cruel smile still tugging languidly on his lips. At this moment, Barry feels like he completely understands Julian, though he isn’t sure why. It really feels like déjà vu, where hazy memories brush seductively against his mind and quickly dance away when he tries to catch them.

“You were 15 years old, just like that kid with the holographic monster,” Barry suddenly makes the connection through all the fog in his head. “That was why you were so affected by having nearly shot him, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, seeing that he was just a kid, the same age I was back when I had been going through one of the darkest times in my life, it brought back all those bloody memories,” he runs a hand through his hair, eyes getting more watery and shoulders slightly shaking. “I became a killer at 15. Many don’t take that road into hell until they’re old enough to be able to comprehend the full weight of their choices.”

“It's ok Julian, it was only self-defense.”

Julian shakes his head firmly, brows furrowed over bloodshot eyes, “No it wasn't. He was begging for his life while I held him at gunpoint. I was looking at him with such hatred, not fear. I hated him for making me feel so powerless, I wanted to do the same to him. Then I pulled the trigger, hitting him where he would last a while before bleeding to death.”

He takes a shallow breath. Barry thinks he can hear Julian’s rapid heartbeats carried over on the wind. “I watched him until he drew his last breath before I left.”

Barry suddenly realizes that he is standing right before Julian, his face mere inches away from his. If he leans in a little more, he will be able to feel the warm gust of Julian’s breaths on his cold lips. He is close enough to get a waft of his cologne, wintry and elusive like the man himself, more daunting than comforting, more there than here. And yet, he feels the ache from deep beneath his heart, the pure yearning to bridge the wide chasm between them in one sweep of brushing lips. He feels connected to Julian in ways he has never felt connected before, like the dark tips of his lashes over those glittering blue eyes have once been so close to his face that he had felt their tickling brush on his own skin.  

He had once kissed Julian, more than once. But that memory belongs to another life. His mind is trying to trick him into thinking that he knows the taste of Julian’s lips, that it is perfectly fine if he closes the remaining inches between them for a kiss, that they have done this many times and Julian is waiting for it. But he feels cold where he needs warmth, he feels grounded where he needs wings, and the kiss never comes.

“Now that I told you this, I need to kill you too,” the line is delivered in a serious tone, but Barry takes it for what it is and gives an awkward laugh. Julian moves away to go back to his forensic kit lying open next to the victim’s body, putting his stuff back in. Barry is both relieved and disappointed that the mood has been ruined.

“Uhm...I can’t figure this out,” Barry starts, causing Julian to look up with slight apprehension. “If he wanted the ransom money, why would he keep you there for ten days?”

Julian rubs his neck in frustration, but Barry needs to know.

“Well, obviously he didn’t get the money in ten days,” he snaps the kit close and stands up. Barry mimics his moves.

“But I thought…you said that your family was wealthy, or was the ransom too much they couldn’t afford it?”

Julian laughs bitterly, “oh they could afford it alright. In fact, they could afford a hundred times more than what he wanted.”

“Then why didn’t he take it?” Barry asks in confusion.

“Because they weren’t offering.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I wasn’t the heir they wanted. I was a disappointment,” he gives a self-deprecating laugh. “It would have been more convenient for them if I died, so they could make my brother the actual heir. Ultimately, their money and prestige mattered to them more than my life, so I left them with both, and here I am.”

Barry had no idea that Julian’s ties with his family were so toxic. It is one thing being kidnapped by a stranger who is after your money, but a whole other tragedy to be abandoned by your own family because they didn’t think you were the son they wanted.

“I’m...I’m really sorry Julian,” he means to say more but Julian just nods his head and turns away to walk toward his car, practically bringing the conversation to an end.

He takes several steps before he stops short and looks back at Barry who is still standing there with a troubled expression and a heavy heart.

“Oh and Allen? You already knew all of this.”

“What?” Julian is doing it again, saying something that makes Barry feel the apocalypse is upon them. His heart is beating madly against his ribcage, but Julian doesn’t make him suffer through this moment for long.

“About my kidnapping experience and the first kill. About my dysfunctional family. About my military training. I’ve told you all of this already.”

He doesn’t sound angry, or upset, or confused. He sounds like he knows what is going on with Barry, but that is impossible. Unless this has happened before, but even that is also impossible.

“Oh...uh….” He stumbles over each half-assed explanation in his head, but Julian doesn’t seem to care about why Barry doesn't remember any of the past that they shared together.

“Bag the body up and I’ll meet you back at the lab,” he says dismissively and starts walking fast toward his car.

Barry watches him numbly as he gets inside, starts the engine and drives away. He had meant to ask Julian to the movie night with Joe and Iris, but he guessed that wasn't an option anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically, Julian's 'tragic' backstory didn't sound much tragic to me, I mean he comes from a wealthy family but he'd rather explore the world as a scientist than sit on a pile of money? That's not tragic, it's adventurous :)) especially when you compare it with Barry's. So i thought, Julian does have a tragic backstory but he didn't really share it with Barry in 3x05. Here I gave him a chance to do it :) Hope you're still enjoying this fic ʘ‿ʘ


	4. Chapter 4

> _ Wherever I grew ties I broke.  _

 

He is walking down an unfamiliar hallway when he hears peals of laughter, loud and free, male and boisterous. The walls are tastefully painted in dim gray, enameled with black and white pictures framed in cream-colored wood. He doesn’t know what he is doing here, whose house it is, or who those men are, laughing hysterically in the room down the hallway. But he is not alarmed, though he should be. He feels safe, as if he has already been here, in a dream or a half-forgotten memory. He remembers, albeit vaguely, one of those pictures hanging on the wall with fondness (it’s an amateurish shot of a nondescript landscape; god, why does this place feel so familiar? Has he been there before?), and as he nears the room where the sounds of laughter are still coming from, he feels heady with excitement, a delirious kind of anticipation for discovering whatever lies behind that door. He reaches his hand to wrap it around the doorknob, but his hand passes through the brass. Shocked, Barry takes a step backward. _Is this...is this a dream?_

But he is too consciously aware for that. _Have I become non-corporeal?_ To test this theory, Barry slowly pushes his hand forward and watches in amazement as it vanishes through the door. _I can walk through the door,_ he thinks with a mixed feeling of apprehension and excitement. _This could be the Speed Force,_ is his last coherent thought before he emerges from the other side and his eyes fall on the tangle of limbs on the bed.  

There is Julian lying on his back with someone wearing Barry’s face on top of him, tickling him mercilessly by running his fingers up and down Julian’s sides and over his ribs. _He has terribly sensitive ribs,_ the Barry standing over the two thinks, shocking himself with the certainty of the thought.

“Stop it, oh god stop it Barry, I can’t...I can’t breathe…”, the man looking like Julian gasps between his hiccupping laughter, his torso lifting up as his hands try to push the other away.

“Say yes and I’ll stop,” the one looking like Barry says with glittering eyes and an honest-to-god expression of mirth stretched wide across his open face. Barry could not remember a time when he had looked this happy.

“I can’t...I just got this place...fuck off,” he’s laughing so hard that tears spill from his blue eyes, just as beautiful as Barry remembers them to be, but with none of their usual aloofness. Who are these two people? What is this place?

“Ok, so I’ll just move in with you, no problem,” the tickling hands are now moving in a much slower pace, rubbing firmly over the blond man’s chest, turning the laughter into an anguished moan that courses like electrified blood through Barry’s veins and shakes him to his core.

“Aah...not the nipples...you bloody manipulative shit,” Julian sounds a terrifying mix of arousal and suffering, his tone so different from what Barry has ever imagined it to be. Barry swallows hard and unconsciously moves closer to the pair, standing over them with a clear view of their expressions and body movements.

“Come on say yes, or I’ll make you come all over your favorite shirt.” With that, the other Barry moves his right hand down Julian’s torso and stops over his crotch, pressing down hard and then rubbing his hand over it in firm, steady strokes. Julian squeezes his eyes shut and bites down on his lower lip as if to stop a groan. The other Barry is looking down at him with so much lust and affection, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Barry can’t take his eyes off them, they look so _right_ together, as inevitable as destiny, yet as fragile as a promise. He tries to commit this scene to memory; he has never seen anything more beautiful than this, has never wanted anything more than this.

“God you're impossible. I hate you so much.” Julian sounds so affectionate saying the sentence that he has ever said in absolute contempt to Barry.

“I hate you too, but right now I want to eat you up, you look so fucking edible Julian,” and he leans down to capture Julian’s lips with his own, hands moving upward to cradle Julian’s head as he deepens the kiss. Barry kneels before them, weighed down by the gravity of his desire at the bottom of his heart, and completely out of breath. He _yearns_ to be able to kiss Julian like that, without a care in the world and with such possessiveness as if this very moment, this whole place and this pliant man under him belong to him in every sense of the word. Julian moans into the kiss, and the other Barry moves his lips away, watching with amusement as Julian cranes his neck to follow his mouth with closed eyes like a moth seeking the flame.

“Is that a yes?”

Julian groans in frustration as he reverses their positions and lands heavily on top of the other Barry. He tugs violently at Barry’s collar and smashes their lips together in a bruising clash of teeth and pent-up sexual energy.

“Fuck yes,” he breathes softly into the other Barry’s mouth and reaches down to undo his own pants.

The kneeling Barry stretches his arm to touch the heaving shoulder of Julian, but as his hand slips through the silk and the flesh, he wakes up gasping in his own bed.

“Oh...oh god, oh god…no, no, no, no.” Barry sits up in the dark, grabbing his throbbing head with both hands and pressing his palms so hard against his temples as if the pain is a physical thing, a ball of iron slamming against his skull from the inside, wanting out.

_What did I just see?_ He thinks hazily through the pain and nausea, head swimming on a tidal wave of confusion. It wasn’t just a normal dream, because he suddenly _remembers._ He remembers that day at Julian’s place, coming back with his senior lab partner from a successfully-wrapped up case. He remembers taking him to the Jitters, buying him his favorite coffee, and telling him a silly story about one of his oldest cases at the CCPD, and somewhere between Julian’s smart humor and infectious laughter, and the pleasant aroma of coffee and rain, Barry had made up his mind. He wanted to move in with this man. He wanted to go to sleep next to him and wake up in the same bed as him in the morning. He wanted to be the first one to see Julian’s dreadful bed head and be the first target of his grumpy morning disposition. He wanted so much more from his relationship with Julian. He was so much _in love_.

God, what did go so wrong?

Barry rubs his hand over his eyes and looks at the alarm clock on the nightstand. 4:45 AM. He feels unbalanced and dizzy, as if thrown into a rolling spin with his thoughts and feelings all over the place. He decides to go for a run around the city to get his thoughts under control. Then he’ll go to the S.T.A.R Labs to get some overdue answers.

 

*******

 

“Barry? What are you doing here so early in the morning? Is everything alright?” Caitlin asks worriedly, moving closer to place a hand on his arm.

Barry sighs tiredly and nods his head, although he feels the furthest from fine he had felt in a long time.

“Yeah, I just...I just need some answers. I can’t keep doing this anymore.”

Caitlin’s expression darkens as she begins to say something but she is interrupted by Cisco who has just stepped into the Cortex, holding a mug of coffee.

“Hey, I thought I heard Barry’s voice, what’s up man?”

Caitlin turns toward Cisco, eyes tinged with concern and lips pulled into a tight smile, “Barry here needs some answers.”

Cisco raises his brows in confusion, “does he now? Answers to what questions?”

Barry drops heavily into his usual seat and rubs his hand at his cheek.

“Guys, I just...had this strange dream, which wasn’t a dream, more like a...like a memory? A suppressed memory that I was recalling in my subconscious...I know it wasn’t just a dream because as soon as I woke up I could remember other details that weren’t a part of that...whatever it was. I think, I…”

“Whoa, man, slow down,” Cisco places his mug on the desk and puts his chin on his hand as he leans forward. “Let’s start again. What did you see?”

Barry takes a deep breath, “I saw myself...with Julian, back at his place. I think it was his place, I’ve never been there but I think, no I _know_ that it was, dim gray walls with black and white pictures on them, the bedroom down the hallway with the same black and white theme, a black platform bed…”

“That’s Julian’s place.” Cisco confirms with a short nod of his head.

Both Barry and Caitlin give him a look.

“What? It is. That guy’s obsessed with black and white, he once tried to teach me some photography but I don’t think that’s ever gonna be one of my many talents.” He shrugs nonchalantly and continues, “so, what were you doing there in his bedroom? Oh god no don’t tell me, this is so awkward.” He covers his face in embarrassment, but Barry is feeling too strained with apprehension to laugh.

“I was...just standing there, watching them...they couldn't see me. I couldn’t touch anything, it was like a movie playing in front of me…”

“Oh I know, like a Pensieve,” Cisco says with renewed excitement.

“A what?” Barry asks in confusion.

Cisco looks somewhat offended at his lack of knowledge. “A Pensieve. Come on, haven’t you guys read any Harry Potter?” He asks in exasperation. “A Pensieve is this….this dish that stores memories, you touch the surface and then are transferred inside where you can relive the memories exactly the way the owner remembered them. It’s like a faithful recreation of memories that have been previously stored in your subconscious.”

“Yeah I guess that’s how it was.” Barry confirms.

A dark look of sadness and worry suddenly dawns on Caitlin’s features, “oh Barry…”

“What is it?” He asks cautiously, unsure if he really wishes to know the answer.

“I think your memories are merging with the ones of your earlier self.” She tries to smile through her concern, but Barry is too distressed to appreciate it.

“You mean I’m beginning to remember and integrate that part of my life that I didn’t live?”

“Yes.” She nods.

“Wow, that’s so sick.” Cisco exclaims in his usual upbeat tone, but soon stops short at the pointed look on Caitlin’s face.  

“Cisco, I don’t think that’s a very good development for Barry.”

Barry sighs in agreement. “Yeah it doesn’t feel like that to me either. Guys, I think I’m losing my mind. I saw how me and Julian were so close, so in love, and I can’t wrap my head around the fact that we no longer are. I need to know what went wrong so I could fix it, or just...move on. Please tell me, please.” He turns his pleading eyes from Caitlin to Cisco. He needs them to realize how important this is to him, that he can’t keep going on with his life like everything is alright when he is on the brink of a complete mental breakdown.

Caitlin is the first to look away. “Barry...I wish we could help you, but we honestly don’t know what happened between you and Julian.”

“Well I can’t just walk up to Julian and ask him about that, now can I?,” he barely stops himself from raising his voice. “He’s already noticed there’s something not right about me, I can’t risk it any further.”

Cisco looks briefly at Caitlin’s dismayed face and decides to take pity on Barry. “All we know is that one day Joe came to the S.T.A.R Labs, telling us Julian had handed in his resignation and was planning to leave Central City that night. We were all baffled at the sudden news, we tried to reach him for an explanation but he wasn’t returning our calls.”

This wasn’t much, but at lease Barry could go somewhere from here. “Why did he stay?”

He didn’t think that he had asked a sensitive question, but the meaningful look that Cisco and Caitlin suddenly share with each other puts him on edge.

“Guys, if you know something you need to tell me.”

“We can’t tell you.” Caitlin says in a sad, yet resolved tone.

“What? Why not?” Barry is only two more rejections away from pulling his hair out.

“Caitlin, I think we should tell him,” Cisco interjects.

“But that’s against Julian’s wish.”

“Yes but that guy doesn't know what's good for him.”

“It’s still his decision.”

“Barry has a right to know too.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Barry asks in exasperation, but the two continue arguing as if he is not even there.

“Well this isn’t the same Barry,” Caitlin points her hand toward Barry’s direction but does not turn her eyes from Cisco who looks uncharacteristically very serious.

“Does it matter though? To Julian who doesn't know and keeps hurting because our Barry here can’t bring himself to make things right between them?”

Now thoroughly aggravated, Barry steps in between the two, demanding their attentions; “guys what’s going on? Please tell me!”

Caitlin finally turns her eyes to him, giving him a resigned look, “well the thing is...Cisco, you tell him.”

Cisco nods gratefully, and goes straight to the point, “Julian didn't leave because we called on him to save your life.”

“The other Barry’s life to be exact,” Caitlin contributes.

“Why? What happened?”

“There was an accident with a meta. We couldn't find a solution fast enough to save your life and we were desperate, so we had to call Julian who had been working exclusively on this meta for a while and knew more than anyone else about him,” Cisco picks up his coffee mug and takes a long sip on it before going on, “He was already at the airport when I sent him a text message, telling him you were about to die and we needed his help.

“As soon as he learned about your critical condition, he rushed back to the S.T.A.R Labs and figured out what was wrong with you. He stayed with you throughout the night, making sure you’d make it.”

“And once you were back on your feet, he returned to the CCPD and told Joe that he had changed his mind, that he’d stay,” Caitlin adds in a shaky voice.

“We thought that meant you two were going to work out your issues and stuff, but Julian made us promise him not to tell you anything about the whole rescue episode,” Cisco says with a shrug, going for his coffee again.

“Why would he ask that?” Barry feels less unsure of his situation now than he did this morning upon waking up from that memory.

“Because he’s an idiot,” Cisco says with conviction. “Don’t get me wrong, I actually think Julian’s quite brilliant as a scientist, but when it comes to emotions and personal stuff, he’s just as bad as you.”

“Where can I go from here?” Barry asks, exhausted, as he rests his head on his hand and closes his eyes for a moment to block the onslaught of conflicting emotions and wayward thoughts.

“If you want my honest opinion, I think you should talk to him. Tell him you’ve forgiven him for whatever stunt he had pulled to hurt the relationship, and then jump right back into bed with him and save us all the drama.”

Barry gives Cisco a wide-eyed stare while Caitlin looks scandalized at his matter-of-fact tone.

“Cisco!” Caitlin then turns to Barry, “Barry don’t listen to him. I know you still find yourself attracted to Julian, and now with this whole merging thing, it’s only gonna get worse, but trust me, going back to him is a bad idea.”

“Yeah, I know Cait, I mean I’ve no idea what it was he did, but I have come to the point where he could point blank tell me he’d killed my parents and I’d say I’m sure you had your reasons.”

His words cause Cisco to spit his coffee out while Caitlin’s eyebrows raise in shock.

“Barry.” She says his name in a soft tone laced with pity, as if he has finally snapped and gone off the deep end.

Barry feels the fear and concern of his two best friends in the pit of his own stomach mixed with his own anxiety and confusion, and the combination makes him feel nauseous. “I-I’m sorry, I’m just...so sick of this whole mess....which is all my fault, and I don’t have a damn clue how to fix it.”

“You should also think about Iris,” Caitlin advises in her gentle voice. “Your obsession with Julian can do serious damage to your relationship with her.”

_Iris_. God, Barry had completely forgotten his feelings for her in the midst of all his confusing and conflicting feelings toward Julian.

“Oh god, I feel like a total asshole now,” Barry covers his face in his hands, mortified at how terribly he has been treating Iris.

“Way to go Caitlin,” Cisco gives her a sideway glance. Caitlin just raises her shoulders with her brows furrowed in indignation.

“I...I need to go,” Barry gets up and presses the tips of his fingers on his tired eyes. “Thanks for...everything.” He is already two hours late for work, but he decides not to show up at the lab today. He just can’t face Julian yet after what he had seen in that memory.

He walks out of the Cortex with his head down, bumping into H.R. on his way out.

“Oh hello, B.A., how are you on this fine morning?”

Barry gives him a defeated look, “sorry, not in the mood. Later.”

H.R. gives Cisco and Caitlin a wide smile, raising his large coffee mug in the air, “ok, what did I miss?”

Cisco just shakes his head in clear annoyance and goes back to his workshop. Caitlin, however, spares him a short smile, “did you also make my favorite coffee?”

 

*******

 

“That’s an interesting fishbowl you’ve got there.”

Julian raises his head from where he had been peering into his fishbowl and looks blankly at the intruder. Iris West.

“Is there any point to this unannounced visit, Ms. West? Because as you can see, I’m very busy.” He says flippantly and goes back to his inspection of the recreated crime scene in the bowl. He tries to appear unaffected by her presence, and he knows he has been successful in his attempt, but inside he is feeling tensed with apprehension.

“I needed to see you.” She brings Barry’s chair over in front of Julian’s desk and takes a seat, crossing her legs at the knees.

“Ok. Whatever for?” He glances briefly at her, wishing the visit was over already. He is not exactly a sociable person, but interacting with Iris West has always been especially difficult for him.

“You know Barry and I are together. In a way. We have been together almost all our lives, but a few weeks ago we finally decided to come clean with our feelings for each other…”

He can’t just sit there and listen to this, “Ms. West, I don’t know why you think this is something relevant to me…”

“Let me finish,” she says in a sharp tone, causing Julian to flinch slightly. She spends a few seconds just staring at him, dark eyes boring into him with worrying intensity, then she breathes out a long sigh. “So we started dating and for a few days I thought, this is everything I ever wanted, just the two of us, being completely and overwhelmingly in love and not letting anything else hold us back.”

Julian doesn’t say anything this time. Somewhere in the far end of his chest, buried under layers of unhealed scars and badly-set bones, his heart begins to weep quietly. The look that he gives her, though, is one of nonchalance.

“But that feeling didn’t last for long. He came back to you.” There is something unsettling about how calm she sounded while saying that. Julian straightens his back, readying himself for the worst.

“He didn’t. If this is an interrogation session to make me confirm to you that your boyfriend is a cheat, I’m afraid that’s not going to happen.”

“I’m not here to make you confirm anything to me,” she says with a frown. “I’m here to...reconcile.”

That admission takes him off-guard; “I’m not holding anything against you.” And he means it. What happened between Barry and him had nothing to do with Iris. It was all his fault.

“You two were together for a while. I’m not going to lie about this, seeing Barry with you crushed me just as I believe seeing me with Barry is crushing you. I have always loved him, but his happiness is all that ever mattered to me,” she takes a shallow breath that almost sounds like a sob she is too proud to let surface. Julian knows how that feels all too well. “If his happiness lies with me, I’m going to give him all I have, but if he’s happier with you, then I won’t stand in his way.”

 

_‘You never give up do you?’_

_‘On you? Never.’_

 

Julian pulls himself out of his sudden lapse into hurting memories and stares silently at Iris. He can't quite wrap his mind around the fact that she is willing to give up on her chance to have the love of her life to herself if that could ensure Barry’s _happiness._ Julian has always considered himself a selfish lover, but something feels different now. It's not his happiness that matters now. It's not anybody's. Neither of them could come out of this mess _happy_.

“That’s all I wanted to tell you. Goodbye, Mr. Albert.”

She gets up from her chair and starts walking toward the door when she is stopped by Julian.

“Ms. West,” she turns around, giving him a quizzical look, ”I know it's going to sound crazy coming from me,” he pauses, running a hand through his hair nervously, "but I would like to ask you to persuade Barry to stay with you.”

“Why?” She sounds perplexed, as if Julian’s request was the last thing she had expected to come out of this visit today.

“Because he won’t ever be happy with me,” it feels like rubbing a sandpaper against the soft wall of his throat saying that. It feels like the utter helplessness and desperation during an apocalypse. It feels like truth. “There's something important that he doesn’t remember right now, but when he does, he’s going to leave me again and honestly...I don’t think I’d be strong enough to survive another fallout with him.”

There is a soft look in those dark eyes now, as if she pities him. Julian doesn’t need anybody’s pity. “But you love him.”

 

_‘Why don’t you believe me?’_

_‘Why should I?’_

_'Because you love me?’_

 

Love...such an absurd, whimsical notion. “Yes, but when has that alone been enough?”

She understands that, better than anyone. “You’re only thinking of yourself.” There is some accusation in her tone. Here she is, sacrificing what she wants for what she thinks Barry wants, and Julian just told her that he won’t be what Barry wants.  

“Don't I deserve it though? After all I’ve been through?” He asks as if she is right; that he is only thinking of himself. And maybe he is. But he has rarely pursued things that would actually benefit him on a personal level.

“You want me to actually believe that you’ll be happier this way?” Either she is incredibly smart or Julian is being incredibly transparent. Julian cannot find it in himself to begrudge Barry for preferring her to him. She is everything wonderful that he has never been.

He shakes his head slowly, heart filled with so much emotion he feels sick. “No, but I want you to convince Barry that I will be.”

For a moment, she just stands there, staring at him while her hand is still on the doorknob. Julian cannot read her, but he hopes that she will do what he has so pitifully asked of her. She leaves the lab without saying another word, and as the door closes behind her, Julian feels the walls moving in closer and the air getting too stale to breathe. In an uncontrolled rage, Julian throws things off his desk, his fishbowl landing hard on the floor and shattering into pieces, as he grabs his hair and screams lowly in his throat. Suddenly exhausted, he drops into his seat, puts his head on the desk, and draws a long shuddering breath…"idiot”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, long chapter is long. I have already warned that this is going to be very AU, so forget everything that the show has so far revealed about Julian because I'm more or less going with a different theory (¬‿¬)


	5. Chapter 5

> _ I still taste ash at the end of my tongue every time I try to picture your face without the hard lines and the empty eyes and the derisive laugh that you let out at my self-imposed misery.  _

 

For the fourth time in two weeks, he is back at the _‘memory nexus’_  - he has refused to call it a _Pensieve_ despite Cisco’s persistence - and this time he knows what to expect. It’s like his memory has now come to immediately distinguish between what originally belongs to him and what is being forcefully pushed inside his head, cramming the space. That, and the fact that he can’t trace back the steps that have brought him to this point, as if he has just dropped into the midst of events from the sky, a somewhat physical version of in medias res. He is standing in the middle of the precinct lobby on a day like any other, his eyes seeking his alternate, memory self and immediately finding him jogging down the stairs and walking up to Joe with a to-go coffee mug in hand and a confused look on his flushed face. He has been late yet again and somehow the thought comforts Barry. At least some things never change.  

“Hey, Joe, have you seen Captain Singh? He wasn’t at his office.”

Joe stops in his track and turns around to face him, “yeah, he’s in the interview room meeting with your new lab partner.”

Barry feels something pull painfully at his heart upon hearing that. This is the moment his other self met Julian Albert for the first time and fell deeply, irrevocably, stupidly in love with him. _I’m going to watch myself fall_ , and he knows that he will, that Julian was a case of ‘love at first sight’ for him, and he wonders if he would stop this moment from happening if he could. Somehow he finds himself completely unprepared for this memory, the starting point to all the heartache and utter confusion he is feeling now. He vaguely registers the increase in his heart rate and feels the slick slide of cold sweats down his neck.

The other Barry though shows none of that trepidation on his face. Instead he looks crestfallen as he rubs at his neck. “Oh...so he finally followed through on his threat, huh?”

Joe shrugs. “Well, since you’re not at the lab often, they needed to bring in someone else who would. And Barry, I wouldn’t sound so despairing just yet,” Joe’s voice held some light amusement in it that caused the other Barry to slightly perk up.

“Why? What do you mean?”

Joe leans in close as if to share a secret, “well, from what I've seen of the new guy, he looks exactly your type.”

The other Barry gives a short, disbelieving laugh. “My type?,” he echoes the thought inside Barry’s head, but not in the same confused tone. “You mean they just brought in a cute, shorter blond man with an impeccable taste in clothes and a biting sense of humor who also speaks in a posh British accent?”

Joe smirks and points with his head in the direction of the interview room down the lobby. “There, go have a look for yourself.”

The other Barry shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right? Even the British accent? I mean what’s an Englishman doing all the way in Central City?”

Joe raises one of his brows in impatience, “Just go talk to him Bar.”

“Ok, ok I will.”

Barry follows him step by step toward the interview room, with his grotesquely swollen heart lodged somewhere in his throat. _If I could change this moment…_

And he could, he could go back in time and do what exactly? Grab his past self’s shoulder and steer him away from that room? Tell Barry that falling for Julian Albert would be the stupidest mistake of his entire life? Tell that to Julian? But he has vowed to never mess up with the past again. He just has to learn how to cope with this heartache, like any other ordinary person who loses a beloved and goes through the mourning ritual to move on.

But somehow Barry always ends up being that person whose mind revolts against mourning because it's just too painful to engage with the loss. He goes back in time and changes things around not because he’s a hero but simply because he’s in a constant state of denial. _Pathetic._

The moment they near the room, the door is opened by Captain Singh who then holds it open for other occupant to walk through.

Barry is standing so close to his other self that he clearly catches his whispered ‘holy shit’ under his breath.

Barry had no idea that he had a ‘type’ in men but here was his other self, completely awestruck and slightly out of breath from just looking at the blond man in front of them.

“Oh Allen, good timing for once. Allow me to introduce you to your senior lab partner, Julian Albert.”

Julian, in his usual three piece suit but with a much neater hairstyle, gives a polite smile as he reaches his hand out for a handshake. Barry watches in slight horror and deep bewilderment as his other self awkwardly grasps Julian’s hand in a firm handshake that must be painful, with a dreamy look in his eyes as if he has been possessed. Barry had never thought he could look this besotted while looking at someone.

“Hello, Mr. Allen. It is a pleasure making your acquaintance.”

His other self literally swoons on his feet as he hears Julian speak. Barry too finds Julian’s British accent attractive, but in a way that he assumes many other Americans would, not on such a personal, ‘holy-shit-this-is-exactly-my-type’ level.

“Oh...no I’m sure the pleasure’s all mine, Mr. Albert.” He fumbles for words, as Barry looks down at the hand of his other self still firmly grasped around Julian’s. He looks up only to see Captain Singh looking meaningfully at the two before silently walking away.

Julian raises a brow in amusement and that look coupled with the gentle smile still playing on his lips is such a novel sight that Barry can’t take his eyes off him. “You can call me Julian.”

“Julian, right. I’m Barry. Our lab is on the second floor, it’s very spacious and has all the necessary equipment, I’m sure you’ll feel quite at home here,” His other self babbles in a way that must surely be unattractive, but Julian doesn’t lose his amused smile.

Somehow Julian manages to take his hand back from Barry’s tight grasp and put it inside his pocket. “Thank you, I can already see that the atmosphere here is far friendlier than what I was used to back in Washington, so I think I’ll feel even better here than I did at _home_.”

“Washington?,” again his other self asks the same question that Barry has just been thinking of.

Julian smirks knowingly at his confusion, “what, you thought I was just imported here straight from London?”

The other Barry scratches the back of his head in slight embarrassment, “uhm...”

“I’ve been with the FBI as a criminologist for the past couple of years,” Julian clarifies, “a few months ago I became involved in a case that dealt with supernatural phenomena, clearly far beyond what I had so far dealt with in my years of experience. Turned out the criminal was a metahuman, hailing from Central City. I hate to be in a state of not-knowing, so I decided to come here to get a firsthand education on your special type of criminals.”

Barry looks at Julian in amazement, as does his other self. “Wow, you’re a criminal profiler,” he says, almost breathless. Then he knits his eyebrows as if he has just realized something. “Wait a minute...Julian Albert, the FBI? I knew your name sounded familiar. Weren’t you the one who solved Philadelphia’s Origami Killer case two years ago?

Barry has no idea what the Origami Killer case was, but he is slowly getting used to all these discrepancies that he keeps discovering about his other life that he didn’t live.

Julian has a smile on his lips that is both smug and amused. “Yes, I led the investigation team on that one. Though I’m somewhat surprised that you know about it.”

Barry can see clearly that his other self is barely controlling himself from throwing his arms around Julian in pure excitement. He has no doubt that Julian, with his keen eyes for facial expressions and body language, can see it too.  “Oh my god I was so obsessed with that case, you know? I still have the newspaper clippings from the investigation progress, trying to see if I could identify the killer before the FBI did.”

This is embarrassing and awkward - it actually reminds Barry of his old crush on Harrison Wells, but Julian, for some reason, keeps humoring him. “Well, were you successful?”

“Oh well, no. I lacked a lot of resources and had my own case of investigation at the time to take care of, so you beat me to it.”

“I’m sure you must have your own remarkable record of cracking specially tough cases given the meta activity in your city.”

“Yeah, I’ve a number of them, although we got a lot of help from the Flash and everything. But I’d really love to know more about your case.”

A dark expression clouds Julian’s blue eyes at hearing the name Flash, Barry notices, but it is soon replaced with another smug look that for some reason is more endearing than irritating.

“As much as I would love to brag, I need to unpack first.”

“It’s alright, I can help you with that."  _Really subtle, Allen,_ Barry thinks, somewhat horrified at his other self’s complete lack of tact for inviting himself to Julian’s place merely five minutes after they just have met.

“I...I don't think that's appropriate.” Julian looks slightly uncomfortable as he averts his eyes, causing the other Barry to flush in embarrassment.

“Oh shit, I'm sorry did I come on to you too strongly?” Barry notices that he didn’t even try to hide his actual intention from Julian who is now back to his amused, attractively arrogant self.

“Well, yes but I can't say I'm not charmed,” Julian gives a short laugh as he runs a hand through his blond hair. “It's been a while since I had someone react to my presence with such obvious fervor, so this is quite an ego boost.”

The other Barry relaxes considerably at seeing Julian’s friendly smile. “That's great, I mean it's a relief to know I don't have to hide my attraction...god I’m making such a fool of myself, aren't I?”

The smile turns a little roguish on Julian’s face. “Well maybe you _could_ help me unpack after all.”

“Really?,” the other Barry asks incredulously, eyebrows raised over widened eyes. “And just to be on the same page and all, you don't actually mean it like a date, do you?”

Julian’s smirk is the only familiar thing to Barry in this whole surreal setting. “Obviously not. We just met, Allen.”

“Allen?” The other Barry frowns.

Julian gives a casual shrug. “I like the sound of that.”

“Okay, Albert,” the other Barry’s mouth twists in distaste, “uh...I don't like the sound of that.”

“Fabulous. We could actually build our relationship on our shared dislike for my family name.” Julian sounds so casual saying that, and the other Barry doesn’t seem to suspect the man’s deep-seated hatred for his family.

With a start, Barry realizes that Julian has always been a brilliant actor, hiding his scars and open wounds under a shiny skin of sarcasm and wits. Pushing people away not because he didn’t appreciate the company but because he was afraid they would see him for what he was and not liking it.

Barry has never really given it a thought before, but Julian is probably the most vulnerable person he has ever seen in his life.

“And our shared passion for catching criminals?”

“Allen, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” Julian says in a surprisingly accurate American accent as he reaches his hand out for a second handshake. His other self melts as they shake on their newly-established friendship while Barry’s heart clatters painfully like it has suddenly turned into thousand pebbles hurled simultaneously against his ribcage.

Looking at things in retrospect has never felt so harrowing as it does now. The last thing on Barry’s mind before he is pulled out of the memory nexus was _I wish we’d never met_.  

 

***

 

_What am I doing?_

The mornings after his lapse into the nexus are always the worst. He wakes up with a piercing headache like his skull is being split apart from the inside and a scream lodged behind his clenched teeth that he chokes on, and the feelings that he swallows down only to have them come right back up to fill his mouth with a jarring aftertaste of all his failings. Facing the grim reality of his life after those trips down the memory lane leaves him with an awful taste at the back of his tongue, especially when he is standing right in front of Iris and all he is thinking of is Julian’s soft smile and the way his blue eyes were filled with fondness as he looked at him and how Barry wished to be the center of his universe again.

_What am I doing?_

He loves Iris. He has always loved Iris, in every possible timeline and on every earth in the multiverse. What is this then? Should he even trust the memories and the feelings that they arise in him? This tangled mess of emotions does not belong to him, yet why is his subconscious clutching so steadfastly to it as if it does?

“Barry, what are you doing?”

He pulls away from the awkward, empty kiss and looks at Iris with guilty eyes, heart thumping heavily inside his chest like a funeral toll.

“I-I don’t know, I wish I did, I’m sorry I just...I don’t know what to do.” He feels like crying, screaming and swearing all at once. But he is too scared to do any of those things right now.

Iris shakes her head in disappointment and Barry hates himself for breaking her heart and becoming such a huge failure in her eyes.

“No you don’t. Barry,” she says his name urgently as she grabs his hand and leads him to sit on the couch. She places her hand on top of his and looks at him with beautiful, soulful eyes filled with unshed tears. “You can’t keep doing this to me or to yourself. All these...unresolved feelings are hurting our relationship. You have to face them, Barry. You have to be brave and figure out which of us two your heart truly belongs to. Me or Julian?”

“Don’t…,” he can’t believe this conversation is taking place with him and Iris in the West household, just moments after Barry gave Iris the most awful kiss in his entire life because he wanted to forget the gut-wrenching urge in the pit of his stomach to know how kissing Julian Albert really felt like.

“I know the score, Barry,” she puts her hand on his cheek, and she looks so beautiful with eyes so honest and expressive, and Barry doesn’t understand how he can feel so disconnected from her when all he wants right now is just to merge with her. “The question is, do you?”

“I barely know anything anymore,” and this might as well be the most sincere thing he has said to her in a while.  

She gets up off the coach and Barry follows her movement with a sinking heart. She goes over to the bureau and pulls out the top drawer and takes something out. She walks back to him with a resigned look in her eyes and holds out her hand toward him.

“Here, I think you should have this.”

Barry reaches out for the photo with a shaking hand. “What…”

It is a picture of Julian and Barry sitting close to each other on a couch against a wall decorated with too many colorful balloons and a gold glitter banner beneath them, spelling out ‘Happy Birthday Jules’. Barry has his arm around Julian’s neck pulling his face even closer to his and Julian is laughing with his whole face, large blue eyes crinkling at the corners and cheeks flushed in pure happiness. The Barry in the picture is not even looking at the camera, his eyes are firmly set on the man in his arms, looking at him with so much love and devotion as if Julian Albert gives the whole meaning to his life.

Barry lets out a shaky breath he has been holding for too long and feels the sting of tears in his eyes. Here, in this photograph, their love continues to breathe, undisturbed by the looming tragedy outside the frame that brought their story to an end. An exquisite, joyous and liberating love, not the kind of wretched, stifling leftover that Barry is now feeling for Julian.

“It was taken at his birthday party at Cisco’s place. This is when the two of you came out to us,” she smiles sadly and shakes her head. “It may sound strange to you now but Julian wasn’t always so closed-off and angry at the whole world.”

Barry traces his finger over the photographed couple with barely-concealed fondness, “I know he wasn’t.”

“Barry.” He looks up at her and there is something about her expression that hollows out his heart. “I love you more than anything else in my life, but I can’t put you inside a locket and wear it around my neck when all you want is to break free.”

“That’s not…”

The smile on her face this time looks more reassuring than heart-breaking, but Barry doesn’t feel reassured at all.

“Go to him and figure out if he’s really who you want to give your heart to,” she says softly. “If there is anything I’ve learned from being in love with you, Barry Allen, it’s how to be patient and wait for the miracle to come.”

Somehow it feels like they both know that he won’t be coming back to where Iris has left him. Barry already feels lost and the only person that reminds him of home now is not Iris West.

_What have I done?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely adored the idea of Julian being an archaeologist before becoming a CSI, but that background didn't work for this AU so I had to go with my previous theories. I actually stole Julian's FBI profiler identity from Heavy Rain as well as the Origami Killer case xD I found it amusing to imagine Julian as Norman Jayden ( ಠ ͜ʖ ಠ) I know this story is going a completely different path from the show, so i'd love to know if this plot is still working out for you or not. <3


	6. Chapter 6

> _ If it was all a dream, I don’t want to wake. If it doesn’t exist, I don’t want to live. If you’re pulling away, I probably should stop tugging at your sleeve. You leave, forever I stay.  _   
> 

 

He arrived at the lab thirty minutes late and he was almost scared to face his senior lab partner. Julian, despite his endearing sarcasm when directed at someone other than Barry, could be very intimidating when rules and regulations were concerned and Barry had been the target of those seething blue eyes one too many times.

He tried to look apologetic and already punished by his own guilty conscience over the display of tardiness as he quietly closed the door behind him, but Julian was not having any of it.

“Remind me once again why I still insist on having you as my partner when Captain Singh would be only too happy to send you packing and cut expenses.” He only spared him a half-glance before going back to a pile of papers on his desk.

Barry loved it when Julian was in a mood.

“Well, I don’t know, maybe because you enjoy the view?” He sauntered into the lab and walked up to Julian, placing his hands on the desk and leaning a little too much into the blond man’s personal space.

“I assure you, Allen, I have been partnered with women far more beautiful than you and not even once was I slightly tempted to think of them as anything more than a colleague.” He sounded so British and refined through all that, which made a fond smile tug languidly at Barry’s lips.   

“Well, maybe that’s exactly the issue here, that your ‘beautiful’ partners were women. I, as you can clearly see, am not.” He pointed at himself with one hand as Julian gave him a calculated once-over with a raised brow.  

“Are you now suggesting that, besides being a pervert, I’m a homosexual as well?”

Barry once again invaded Julian’s personal bubble and noticed with no small amount of satisfaction that Julian didn't pull away. He was so close to him now that he could trace all the different shades of blue in his eyes and get a waft of his wintry cologne. “Well, are you?”

Julian lifted both of his brows this time, a challenging glint in his eyes. “I don’t know. Am I?”

Accepting the challenge, Barry dared allow his voice to drop an octave and become even more flirtatious than before. “There’s only one way to find out.”

Julian looked at him warily, “Cute.” before peering down at his papers again.

_Cute,_ Barry thought as he catalogued the slim body fitted tightly in a crisp white shirt with sleeves rolled up to expose pale strong arms, unruly blond hair tucked behind one ear and slipping over the other side of his face, clear blue eyes looking sharp and intelligent with knitted brows, but glittering and innocent with a soft smile. The way the man could turn Barry’s whole world upside down with a witty remark, or turn his insides into mush with a private smile, it was most certainly baffling how Barry had not yet made his intentions more straightforward.

Julian Albert might as well be the soulmate that Barry had always been on the lookout for. When he looked up to give Barry a pointed look for the continued staring, with those eyes and that mouth and that expression, Barry knew that he most definitely _was._

“Can I kiss you?” With three weeks of light-hearted flirtations and a fast developing reservoir of inside jokes and learning each other’s little quirks and favorite type of food (Barry actually took him out for lunch on the third day of their first encounter at the precinct), the request should not have sounded too out of place to either of them.

Julian though frowned a little, as he put the papers aside, leaned back in his seat and folded his hands in front of his stomach to give him an inquiring look.

“Why do you want to kiss me?” He asked in all seriousness, and Barry felt a little less sure about Julian’s possible physical attraction to him.

“Because you’re so beautiful.” He admitted anyway, because it was the truth and also because he really needed to know where they stood.  

“Do you go around kissing everybody you find beautiful?” Again, the tone was serious, as was the expression, although the question itself was a bit off. Barry was now in too deep to be able or perhaps even _willing_ to take a backstep into the friend zone.  

“No. Only the ones I want to have a relationship with.” There, it was out in the open now. He felt a little apprehensive, maybe somewhat scared, as Julian gave him a silent stare for a few seconds before looking away.

“Why do you want to have a relationship with me?” He finally asked in a soft tone, and somehow the question coupled with Julian’s apparent uneasiness comforted Barry with the knowledge that at least he was not the only one uncertain about the outcome of this revelation.

“Because you’re smart, British and have a morbid sense of humor.” He actually wanted to give him the honest answer, that _because you’re everything I’ve ever desired in a partner and the intensity of this desire is scaring me,_ but he didn't dare offer his heart for slaughter just yet.

“Do you go around having a relationship with everyone who's smart, British and has a morbid sense of humor?”

“No I...you’re fucking with me, aren’t you?” Because he must have been. Despite the serious tone and pensive expression, the question was all wrong and completely absurd.

Julian didn't say anything, though. He got out of his chair, walked around the desk to stand in front of Barry, and in a swift move that Barry, despite all his superhuman speed, did not see coming, crashed his mouth against his. The force and the surprise knocked Barry two steps back, as Julian grabbed him by his shirt and pushed him even further backward, until Barry’s back hit the wall and his whole world came crashing down around this single moment in time, when everything stilled but the hammering of Barry’s heart and the erratic movements of Julian’s lips over his, over and over until the only thing that mattered was this kiss, and the only word he could remember was Julian’s name, and the taste on Julian’s lips intoxicated his blood with such a heady high he hadn't felt since he became a speedster.

Julian pulled away from the kiss, mouth red, wet and slightly open, looking at Barry with wide eyes clouded with the same lust he felt. Barry looked at him in amazement, as he tried to catch his breath and stop his lips from stretching so wide across his face that it would split open.

“Does the kiss...uh...come with a relationship prospect too?” He panted as he brought his hand up to touch the side of Julian’s flushed face. He felt weakened by the intensity with which his heart yearned for this man, and he was scared, excited, content and impatient all at once.

Julian looked pensive for a moment, as if he was really giving it some serious thought. But the sly smirk that pulled at the corner of those bruised lips soon ruined the effect. “Hmm, let's keep kissing so that I can make up my mind.”

“With pleasure.” And this time, it was Barry who pressed his lips against Julian, firmly and slowly, as his hands came up to hold the sides of the British man’s face with gentle affection.

Almost one year into the future, Barry Allen wakes up in his bed, alone, confused and drenched in sweats, with the taste of Julian’s lips in his mouth and a fluttering sensation in his heart as if he has just missed three stairs all at once.

_What the fuck was that?_ Why couldn’t he just have a normal wet dream like other people? Why did he relive the memory this time not just as a bystander but as the actual participant? Why did his subconscious decide that he needed to know how Julian’s lips tasted like?

Barry touches his mouth gently with the pads of his fingers, somehow still feeling the pressure of Julian’s lips against them.

How is he ever going to get over that phantom of the taste imprinted in his mind like a branding iron?

_I’m not, am I._ That didn't even sound like a question in his head. He is in pain, nauseous and aroused, with a deep-seated yearning in the pit of his heart boiling the soft tissues there in acid and molten lava.

A quick look at the clock on the nightstand confirms that he is also thirty minutes late.

“Fuck.”

 

***

He speeds over to the lab not only with a half-hour delay but also with an enormous headache courtesy of the worst case of merging he has just experienced and sleep deprivation thanks to the late night running around the city in a vain attempt to catch Alchemy. But when he opens the door and walks on silent footsteps into the lab, Julian does not greet him with the same biting sarcasm, reprimanding him for his total disregard for punctuality. Barry notices with a start that Julian is resting his head on the desk, dark blond brows furrowed over closed eyes as if in a restless sleep. The shock of seeing Julian sleeping at work makes the British man’s name escape through Barry’s lips without conscious volition.

“Julian?”

Julian raises his head from the desk in slow motion, eyes squinting in the bright sunlight pouring into the lab through the wide windows behind him. He looks ragged and unfocused, like he doesn’t know where he is for the first few seconds, until his eyes with dark bags under them take into the lab equipment on the shelves next to the opposing wall and come rest on Barry who is still standing dumbfounded in the doorway. His hair is a tangled mess and his tie is open around his neck. Barry has never seen Julian look so disheveled, it almost feels like looking at a completely different person.

“Allen.” He straightens up in his seat and runs a hand through his hair and then across his face. He doesn't look sleepy. He looks damn exhausted as if he has pulled several all-nighters in a row, running on nothing but a high amount of caffeine.

“Are you okay?” He finally makes his legs move and walks up to Julian’s desk. For a brief moment, he is tempted to place his hands on the desk and lean in close but the wave of déjà vu hits him so hard that he hangs back.

“Yes I…,” he pauses to give Barry a cautious look, “I was working on a case all night and didn’t go home. I guess I just fell asleep at my desk.”

“Which case?” He moves his eyes around the desk but there is no manila folder anywhere.

“The one on the husks,” he sighs and leans back into his seat. The expanse of pale skin peeking through the open collar of his form-fitting shirt is somewhat distracting and Barry has a hard time keeping his eyes off it. “So far we collected eight of them and still no breakthrough. We can’t just stand back and let this meta, whatever they are, hurt more people. We have to do something.”

“Yes, but you also need to take care of yourself.”

“What are you, my mom?” He snaps, the intense look he had while talking about the case already gone from his eyes, and replaced with one of annoyance.

Barry can’t really help the eye-rolling this time. “Julian, come on, aren’t you just tired of all this bickering between us?”

“Yes, but what are you going to do about it? Tender your resignation, hopefully?” He gives a half shrug with a cruel smirk on his face, but Barry doesn’t take the bait.

“I’m offering a truce.” He extends his hand for a handshake. Julian looks at it with obvious disdain and doesn’t shake it.

Barry pushes back the hurt that is threatening to spill all over his heart at the rejection. “This was supposed to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”  

“What?”

“The first time we met, here at the precinct, you quoted Rick in Casablanca and then we shook hands on it.” Barry remembers with a soft smile, the open expression on Julian’s face back then, his clear eyes and the mischievous grin, his soft, warm hands in his, a promising start.  

Julian looks up at him with pained eyes, “you remember it.” His voice sounds so naked and vulnerable just then, and he eyes Barry’s still offered hand as if he's thinking about shaking it, to bring that day in their ancient past back to life, to here and now. He doesn't though.

“Yeah, so vividly like it was just yesterday,” Barry feels something twist painfully in his gut saying that. He feels like a cheat. For him, it really was just yesterday. For Julian, almost a year ago, buried deep beneath many layers of heartbreak, distrust, pain and regret.

“I refuse to be a participant in this conversation, Allen,” he snaps close, like dark, heavy shutters suddenly falling over a window to a beautiful landscape.

Barry sighs and drops his hand in disappointment. He doesn’t move away from Julian’s desk though.

“Do you ever regret coming here? To Central City?”

This time it’s Julian’s turn to heave a sigh. For a little while, he doesn’t say anything, just closes his eyes and presses his fingers over his eyelids, as if to rub off the weariness. When he blinks his eyes open, they are glistening with tears and slightly red around the corners.  

He wets his lips as he locks eyes with Barry. “Meeting you? Falling in love with you? Breaking up with you? Perhaps. But I'm still here, so how I feel about things past won't make a difference to what I will choose to do to my future.”

Barry’s mind is still stumbling over the word _love_ like a broken record. “Why didn't you leave?” He asks softly.

Julian pulls himself out of the chair and walks heavily toward the window. He puts his hands on the windowsill and allows his shoulders to stoop. “Simple. I was more needed here than back in Washington or anywhere else in the world.”

Barry takes a few steps toward him. “Because of the metas?”

A deep sigh and then a barely heard whisper, “because of you.”

The admission takes Barry by surprise and touches his heart so deeply that he suddenly finds himself standing right behind Julian, placing a hand on his arm and gently turning him around. Julian looks up with a resigned expression on his face, seeming too tired to protest about Barry’s hand touching him and their close proximity that allows Barry to smell his familiar scent -- just the same in the memories -- and count his eyelashes one by one. _I have created him_ , he thinks hazily, somehow feeling heady on the sensation of Julian’s warm breaths on his own skin. But no, that cannot be right. He didn’t _create_ Julian. He already existed somewhere in the universe, just not here. If it weren’t for the Flashpoint and what transpired afterwards, Julian would have been probably back in England with his wealthy family right now, being the perfect, fortunate heir to all that money. What Barry actually did, through his messing up with the timeline, was to bring Julian here. All the way from London to Washington D.C. to Central City, to this lab at the CCPD as his partner, right into his heart as a permanent resident.

“Julian.” He says his name with all the longing he has been feeling for weeks, like he is actually asking permission to close the remaining gap between them and finally, _finally,_ touch those lips with his own. Julian doesn’t pull away, doesn’t avert his eyes. He almost sags against the windowpane, as if laying down his arms and surrendering a fight he is too tired to win.

Barry may not have brought Julian into this point as a deliberate decision, but Julian is his responsibility now. And this isn’t really such a bad thing. Not at all.

When Julian’s gaze falls on Barry’s lips in anticipation, Barry finally leans forward to kiss that mouth. For a few seconds it feels like heaven, as Julian’s lips give way under the pressure of Barry’s tongue and a soft moan escapes his throat. Barry slides a hand up into Julian’s hair and angles his head to the side to deepen the kiss. Julian follows the movement like a perfect lover, and kisses Barry’s mouth with such familiarity that it takes his breath away. _This is real_ , Barry thinks, lightheaded and drunk on the taste of Julian’s lips. _This is real_ , right here and now in his own universe. This kiss belongs to him, not some stolen moment from someone else's life. And this is his Julian that he has fallen in love with. Cranky, broken, closed-off and absolutely gorgeous.

“Stop Allen. Stop.” Julian presses a hand against his chest and pushes him away.

Barry already mourns the loss of those lips against his as he takes into Julian’s reddened mouth and clouded eyes.

“What? What is it?”

“We can’t do this.” He turns his head to the side and wipes off the wetness on his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Why? I thought you wanted it.”

“I do Allen. You don't.” He says that with such conviction that Barry’s heart hollows out.

“What? That's stupid. I’m the one who kissed you.”

“Yes, and you'll be regretting that once you get home.”

“I'll regret it if you keep up this attitude and don’t let me kiss you more.” Barry moves closer to Julian and grabs his jaw to turn his mouth toward his, but Julian grasps his wrist and pulls it forcefully down and away from his face.

“Trust me Allen. You don’t want that,” he says in a cold, level voice, while frustration builds up inside Barry like a volcano about to erupt.

“Of course I want it! I’m asking for it, aren't I? God, Julian what's wrong with you?”

Julian’s expression darkens with anger as he pushes Barry further away. “What’s wrong with _me_? That’s funny Allen. I’m not the one with fucking amnesia, am I?”

“I don’t…”

Julian cuts him off, his eyes now looking deeply anguished as his voice raises in volume, “tell me, Allen, tell me those cursed words you said to me when you broke it off with me four months ago.”

“Why? What does it matter?” Barry asks in a mixture of confusion and vexation.

Julian looks on the verge of a breakdown as he grabs at his own hair and pulls hard at the blond strands. “Don't you see? This is everything Allen, everything! Those words are everything that is fucked up between us now! And you don’t bloody remember them!”

Barry reaches out a hand to touch Julian’s shoulder in some form of comfort, but Julian yanks his body away from his reach.

“Why don’t you tell me then?” He asks softly, hoping that his tone would at least make Julian calm down.

Julian draws a long, shuddering breath, forcing back the raw pain behind his walls once again. When he looks up, his eyes are no longer quivering behind the thin veil of tears and when he speaks, his voice is as hard and impenetrable as the walls around his secrets.

“I may have 99 horrible personality traits, but being a masochist isn't one.”

“You want this Julian. You just said it yourself. So why don’t you stop being a _masochist_ and just let it happen?”

“Because I can’t take that downfall twice,” and he suddenly looks so small, so scared admitting that, pulling hard at Barry’s heart with how vulnerable he sounded just then.

“Look yes, you’re right. I don’t exactly remember what happened between us before, but I promise you that it won’t happen again.”

Julian shakes his head slowly. “How can you promise something you don’t even know what?”

He rubs furiously at his face and lets out a deep sigh. “Allen, you’re just letting lust and frustration cloud your better judgement. Just go home, back to your lovely girlfriend, and try to forget this episode ever happened.” And then in a much softer tone, barely audible, “just like how you've forgotten everything else.”

“I haven't forgotten everything,” Barry says slowly, moving a little closer to Julian. “I haven't. I remember the first time we met. I remember our first kiss. I remember the day I asked you to move in with me.” He bites his lower lip, and this time his hand makes contact with Julian’s stiff shoulder. “Julian please, give me another chance. I promise you I won’t fuck it up this time.”

He pleads with both words and eyes, he’s ready to go down on his knees and beg until his throat turns sore and his kneecaps start to hurt.  

Julian’s eyes look so vacant, though. “It’s not you who needs a second chance, Allen. It’s me. And I can't give that chance to myself on your behalf.”

He turns on his heels and starts walking toward the door, pulling Barry’s heart with him with every step he takes.

“Julian! Wait.”

With his hand on the doorknob, Julian turns around to give him a sad smile. “I've been waiting far too long. I think it’s time to move on...for both of us.”

If Julian left the room now, everything would be finished. In a desperate attempt, Barry shouts after him, “why did you save me?”

Julian looks back at him with wide eyes. Barry goes on, “Why did you stay behind to save my life? Whatever it was you did that caused me to end it with you, it didn't take away any of your feelings for me, did it?”

Silence. Heavy and suffocating. Julian’s eyes look betrayed and in a state of shock. Like he really wishes to leave right now, but he can’t move his legs.

“Did it?” He barely registers that he’s actually shouting, that people outside might have heard him.

Julian hangs his head in defeat. “No.”

“So it doesn't matter!” Barry almost screams. “Can't you see? It doesn't fucking matter. If you still love me, we can start again. Why are you letting all these feelings go to waste?”

Next to Barry’s eruption of emotions, Julian’s aloofness is jarring. “I'm not. I'm just trying to protect them.”

Barry gives a short, bitter laugh. This is the oldest line in the book and he’s just so tired of hearing that excuse. “Protect them? From what? From me?”

Julian looks at him sadly, then hangs his head and confirms Barry’s words with a nod, “Yes...from me.” Then he pulls the door open and leaves.

“No stop, goddamn it!”

The door shuts behind Julian with a thud. Barry grabs a mug from the desk and hurls it toward the wall with all his might, watching with teary eyes as the mug shatters into pieces and rains over the floor. Suddenly he feels so exhausted that he needs to lie down.

“Fuck,” he almost sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously though, I also feel like I need to go lie down (／ω＼) this chapter was so emotionally draining for me lol, i hope it turned out alright after all the suffering i put me and these two babes through o(>< )o Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

> _ Let go, but never give up.  _

 

There was something heavy in the air, something solid, but invisible to the eye, something that he kept dragging into his lungs with every breath he took. Something that reeked of sulfur, charcoal and hot metal, like spent gunpowder. Vicious pollens of absence, of dolour, of _goddamn_ heartache. What was he doing here, again?

Julian slumped into his chair, letting his head fall back on the headrest, staring with glazed eyes at the blank canvas above him but seeing something else entirely. The blood on his hands, _too much, oh god, too much blood, where’s it even coming from?_ Not his own _,_ the slow flutter of a fading pulse beneath his touch, ‘ _we’re losing him’, no not on my watch,_ the twitching of eyes behind closed eyelids, barely traceable but he could see it, looking painstakingly for any sign of hope pushing away the nauseating thought, _I could never see the color of those eyes again_.

And he hadn't. For three days excluding today. He would show up, though. Caitlin gave him a heads-up of sorts in a text message, ‘ _We couldn’t keep him away from the precinct for longer. I’m sorry, Julian.'_ No, it was alright, he could take it. He had come here today to take it, all the rage, the sarcasm, the insults, the shouting and the spit in his face.

_Dramatic much?_ Julian grimaced. It wasn’t his voice. It was Barry’s. He had been thinking with Barry’s voice in his head for far too long. He needed to get out. _Who? You or him?_

Well, it was already too late for him anyway. He was here, despite his better judgment, and Barry would soon be here too and then there would be no getting out. Not because of him. _You can afford being honest in your head, can't you?_

"I’m a weak, pathetic excuse for a human being who is just too bad at letting go of things, is that honest enough for you?,” he rubbed his hand over his exhausted face, _haven't slept for weeks am I crashing,_ and he was already talking to himself. Too tired to be alarmed about his deteriorating mental health now, _or ever._

_“_ I don't need your honesty. I need you gone.”

Startled, Julian dropped the hand covering his face and looked up at the face of his lover, _not anymore, when will you move past the stage of denial?_

_I’m getting there, fuck off_ , and if the bad temper was any indication, he thought he was truly making good progress toward the stage of anger in a span of merely four days.

“Barry,” and somehow the name tasted like ash on his tongue. The last time he said that name, Barry was unconscious on the bed and Julian had stayed up until morning to keep an eye on him. The last time he said that name, it didn’t taste like ash. It had the salty tang of blood.

“What are you doing here?” The ‘still’ was right there in his eyes, livid with cold fury, and Julian had a hard time keeping eye contact. Those weren't the eyes that he had fallen in love with, and yet he still loved that man. _If love is supposed to feel like not having seen the most precious person in your life for years and when you finally do, it is at their fucking funeral to which you hadn’t even been invited._

_Not a good time for being a depressed poet, Julian_ , although the rainy weather outside was perfect for the mood.

Barry didn't beat around the bush, and neither should Julian. “I couldn’t allow personal issues to get in the way of my professionalism.” He mimiced Barry’s blasé tone, the hardened expression, the undeserved self-righteousness. Under the pretty surface, though, he was crumbling.  

He couldn’t let Barry take everything from him. _But he could have, and he didn’t._ He could have taken away his future, he could have ruined his life so devastatingly that Julian wouldn’t be able to stand back up. _Maybe I am just as petty as Barry thinks of me now._  

“What was our agreement?” He was still standing there at his desk, keeping his distance, keeping his temper, giving off nothing but a profound sense of detachment. _He truly has moved on from me,_ the thought felt like an expanding tumor in his brain.

No matter how petty, though, being here in this lab must have been far more painful for Julian than it could ever be for Barry. Barry felt justified in everything he felt toward him, while Julian was slowly, unnoticeably, being strangled by the unfairness of it all.

“That I leave Central City.” He heard his own voice from a distance. He felt like floating aimlessly on whimsical waves, drifting closer to the shore when all he wanted was to swim further away.

“Then why are you still _here_?” He slammed his hands on the desk, causing Julian to flinch back slightly, ruining his apathetic exterior.

Why was he still here? He had been asking himself that same question for four days now, and the answer was still the same disheartening one. _I’m here because I know who you are, but I can’t tell you that now, can I? Not when a part of my essence, my own blood, will forever live inside your veins and contaminate your superheroic blood._

“What can you do about it?” He knew he sounded like a jerk, that the vibrant blue of his eyes had turned into cutting steel, concealing the pain lodged deep inside his throat, restricting his airways. He also knew that this was the person he was going to be around Barry from now on, that he couldn't allow him to see how much this loss was affecting him, destroying him. _Better be perceived as a jerk than pathetic, ha? I like your style._

Barry was taken aback by the nasty tone, mouth opening and closing several times, as if unsure of how to take Julian’s attitude. He finally settled on shaking his head as if feeling really sorry for him, _so he still finds me pathetic,_ and leaned a little closer, making Julian’s heart skip a beat. _Damn it, this is not the part where he kisses you. He’s going to destroy you, Jul, hold your breath._

“Julian...this thing between us is completely over. You know that, right?”

_Completely annihilated you,_ the voice had a cruelly chirpy tone to it, causing Julian’s mind to twist painfully around the words. _How can you say that to my face with such cruel clarity? You promised me always, Barry. This doesn’t feel like always._

“Better than I know you these days.” He said that with a clinical smile, letting his eyes roam languidly over Barry’s beautiful features, wishing that his gaze could skip over the indifference and dismissal embedded into those dark green eyes.

Barry ran his hand through his jet black hair and gave a short, mocking laugh. “No, you’re right. I can’t do anything else. I was hoping that you would be a man of your words and keep your end of the deal, but instead you chose to be a complete dick about this. Well, enjoy your stay as long as you can.”

He raised his hand in a mock goodbye salute with a meaningful smirk on his face as he let the door shut behind him.

Julian’s heart sank even further down his chest. _In other words, he’s going to make your life hell._

Julian pressed the tips of his fingers against a throbbing vein in his temple, _oh we’ll give as good as we get._

His eyes then fell on the notebook open on his desk. There was a line in there he had been staring at for weeks. He recognized the quote (it was from _Beyond Good and Evil_ , he read that book when he was 13), and the handwriting (it was his, it was unmistakable), but he didn't know where it had come from. He didn't remember ever writing it down, he didn't know why he didn't remember it. Yet he was drawn to it all the same, as if the line was a beckoning, an ill omen, a prophecy of sorts, a car crash he couldn't take his eyes off.

_Wer mit Ungeheuern kämpft, mag zusehn, dass er nicht dabei zum Ungeheuer wird. Und wenn du lange in einen Abgrund blickst, blickt der Abgrund auch in dich hinein.*_

He had been wondering when that would happen to him. _Have I already become a monster?_

The voice inside his head giggled with sly amusement, _oh Julian, you have always been one._

 

*******

 

“What...what’s going on? What are you doing, Julian?”

The first time he is actually on time to work and he has to encounter this scene.

“Packing.” He says curtly without even looking in his direction as he puts case files into a moving box.

Barry stands rooted to the spot, unable to process the tangled mess of thoughts inside his head. “Yes I can see that, but why? Where are you going?” Has he been transferred? _Oh god._

Julian looks up then, paler than usual with faded blue eyes and dark circles beneath, it is painfully obvious he hadn’t slept much. Barry wonders if he looks just as haggard.

“The storeroom downstairs. I’ve already talked to Captain Singh about it, he agreed that I convert the room into a temporary lab until they relocate me to a more suitable place.”

Barry’s heart has resumed its beating, although it still feels like his ribcage has been pressed down against his heart, making each thump extremely painful and difficult.

“No, don’t. You don’t need to go. I go.”

“I told you to stay once, I’m not going to default on my words, Allen.”

“But this is my fault.” He knows he has tears in his eyes, that he looks weak and pathetic still standing in the doorway, like the last line of defense against the endgame that was Julian’s leaving, but Barry had already laid down his arms.

Julian drags a hand down his face in exhaustion, and when he says his name, his voice is laced with grief. “Barry...it’s not that I can’t stand being in the same room as you. It’s just that I can’t trust myself around you. What happened yesterday was as much your fault as it was mine. I can’t allow another display of weakness like that.”

Barry swallows the lump in his throat. It’s becoming increasingly more difficult not to burst into pitiful tears at the tragedy that has become his life. “At least tell me what went wrong between us. I need to know.”

Julian sighs deeply and averts his eyes, “I can’t tell you that, Barry. Not when I don’t know it myself.”

“What does that mean?” How can he _not_ know what had happened?

Julian makes a brief eye contact before looking away again. “You accused me of doing something horrible but I never took responsibility for it.”

Barry takes several steps into the lab and toward Julian’s desk. “Why didn’t I believe you?”

“Because all evidence pointed to my culpability.”

Barry comes even closer. “Then why did you deny it?”

Julian’s eyes flash with conviction, “Because I didn’t do it. I know I didn’t,” as if this thought is a rope he has been hanging onto to save himself from a freefall into the void. Or has he been hanging himself with it and didn’t notice?

 “Then why couldn’t you convince me?” He is now standing right next to Julian, close enough to notice the cracks on his lips, _we kissed yesterday and somehow it feels like I’ve already erased it from the timeline,_ and his ever present scent of wintry aloofness. Being this close to Julian aches like taking your heart into your hand and squeezing hard in hopes of willing it to fight back.

"I tried,” he leans against the desk, as if suddenly too exhausted to trust his legs with supporting his weight. “God, I’m still trying to figure out what really happened that night, but I’m hitting dead end after dead end…” He gives a pause to exhale a deep breath, looks up at Barry with anguished eyes, and shakes his head as if to purge a cloud of despair around his thoughts, “I’m not giving up though. At this point, I need to do this for myself more than I need to do it for you...for us.” And then his voice breaks ever so slightly as he casts his eyes downward, “I…I’m so tired, Barry. I just need some peace of mind. I just want to close my eyes and get some restful sleep for once.”

He almost reaches out to hold Julian in his arms, but the distance between their bodies has solidified into a thick wall. “Let me help you. Please.”

“You can't help me. Not anymore.” There is such damning finality in that voice that Barry can’t push the words out of his mouth to argue. “I just need you to stay away while I try to piece my life back together.”

_Stay away, right, how one does that_?

“So you're saying...this thing between us...is completely over?” He almost chokes when he says ‘over’.

Julian pushes off the desk and gives one of those harrowingly sad smiles. “Those used to be your words...the first time. Now they're mine.”

“You can’t ask me that,” Barry shakes his head in denial. “You can’t ask me to give up on us. Because I’m not giving up. Not this time.”

For just the briefest moment, Julian’s eyes soften into clear oceans. He steps closer to Barry and puts his hand gently on the side of Barry’s face. Barry closes his eyes and breathes out slowly, committing the sensation to memory. This may as well be the last time he gets to feel Julian’s touch on his skin.

“Barry...you’re gonna remember this and I don't want to be a part of your life when that happens.”

Barry opens his eyes to a pained expression and slightly parted lips. “I don’t care. Can’t you see? I’ve already made you the center of my life. I want us to be together no matter what.”

Julian drops his hand and moves away, taking his wintry scent with him. “There is only one place left for us now to be together, Allen,” he picks up the box and walks toward the door. He turns around before stepping out, locking eyes with Barry. “Our memories.”

Memories. They are the thing of the past. He has been visiting them in his sleep, but not on his own accord. What if he decides to do it deliberately this time? _No._ Yes. _I made a vow to Jay that I won’t mess up with the timeline again._ But this isn’t about making a change in the past. Just observing, that’s all. _Just observing?_ Yes, and touching. And kissing. _And having those blue eyes look at me with love._ Yes, you can have that. You’re one of the few people in existence who can have that. _I want to…._ Yes. _yes._

A bit closer to heaven, but a lot closer to hell.

 

*******

 

When he thinks back to all the missteps and wrong turns that brought him down to this level of desperation, he notices that it all started when he realized he had nothing left to lose and nothing more to gain.

Five days of absolute hell chasing after metas, futile brainstorming sessions with the team trying to figure out who Alchemy was and what he was playing at, missing sleep and getting heartburn on confusing thoughts and wretched feelings, not even bothering with showing up at the precinct anymore because what was the point? Julian Albert was the whole point to his life now and he was missing from it.

He had to bring him back.

Or, go back to him.

Almost 10 months into the past, standing in the doorway which leads to the lab his past self shares with Julian. His heart is hammering madly against his ribcage as his eyes rest on the standing form of Julian with his back to the entrance, unaware of Barry’s presence, fully focused on the clippings on the bulletin board. Barry knows that his past self is not here and he won’t be back until much later. Being in the past has unlocked certain memories of his other self for him.

_I could just stand here in the shadows and watch him work,_ he thinks but at the same time he knows that’s not what he is going to do. He didn’t break his promise to Jay by going back in time just to be a Peeping Tom. _I need to feel him, to hold him and breathe into his scent…_

His legs have brought him into the lab, mere steps away from Julian, all of their own volition. As if finally sensing a presence behind him, Julian turns around, eyes widening slightly in surprise.

“Barry?”

Time comes to a halt at that precise moment when Barry’s eyes make contact with Julian’s, which are crystal blue and devoid of any haunted depth, as clear as a morning sky after a short midnight drizzle. There is no anguish there, no hatred or unresolved guilt. There is only pure affection and pleasant surprise. _I love those eyes,_ Barry realizes with a start, as he cups Julian’s face in his hands and holds his gaze for what feels like eternity. _He doesn’t hate me,_ Barry cants his head forward, bringing his mouth closer to Julian’s slightly parted lips, _I can kiss him and he won’t push me away. He’ll kiss back and it will be right._

When their lips touch, time resumes its normal pace, sending a wave of arousal and want rushing through his head. Julian opens his mouth even further, as if instinctively, allowing Barry’s tongue to slide in and start a sinuous dance with his, the urgent pressing of warm, soft tongues, the angling of Julian’s head to the right, Barry’s hand tangled into soft blond curls of his hair, their shared breaths and the pure blissful taste of Julian’s lips. Julian moans beautifully into his mouth, sending a shockwave of renewed passion down Barry’s spine. Julian’s arms circle around his neck, bringing his face even closer to his, taking charge and deepening the kiss further still. Barry follows the movements of Julian’s lips and tongue obediently, losing himself completely in the taste and the wintry scent on Julian’s skin. _If only we could stay in this moment forever…_

But forever slips right through his fingers as Julian breaks the kiss to lean his head against the board behind him, panting through wet, parted lips, glittering eyes hooded with unchecked lust as he stares in amazement at Barry.

“Wow...Barry...what...what are you doing back here, I thought you said you were going to that conference of Professor Stein?”

Barry follows the movement of Julian’s reddened lips as if in a trance, but forces his mind to focus on his words. _Prof. Stein’s conference? Right._ That was obviously a lie his past self had told Julian to cover up for the time he needed to stay away from the precinct to catch a metahuman as the Flash. Barry knows that his past self will not be back for another three hours, so he is in no rush to distance himself from Julian’s body dressed in a form-fitting white shirt and tight black pants, pressed against the board in such a wanton manner. _How could I ever break up with this man,_ Barry’s lust-addled mind thinks through the haze of his arousal.

“Barry.”

Barry comes to himself with a start, noticing Julian’s curious, slightly concerned expression.

“Oh yeah, well I left something behind so I thought I come back and get it, and then I saw you standing here all on your own so focused on your work and so fucking irresistible...I couldn't help it.” Barry runs a finger on Julian’s lower lip, then grabs his jaw to bring his mouth close for a little peck. He can feel Julian’s lips curving upward against his mouth before he is gently pushed back.

“While I’d totally love to spend my time on getting reacquainted with your lips again and again I’m afraid that would prove to be counterproductive to what I’m supposed to do while here at the lab, not to mention you’d be late for the conference.”

_Why can’t I get enough, fuck,_ Barry dips his head to nuzzle Julian’s neck and run his tongue over a patch of skin, Julian hisses into his ear as his legs fall apart to accommodate one of Barry’s between them, pressing urgently against his groin. Barry feels Julian’s erection against his thigh and his whole world turns upside down.

“Please, please, please,” he breathes wetly against Julian’s skin and drags his mouth across his stubbled cheek to catch the blond’s lower lip between his teeth. Julian breathes a sigh of submission into Barry’s mouth as he brings his hands to Barry’s back and allows the kiss to deepen. Barry puts every last drop of his desire into the kiss, nibbling, sucking, licking, pulling, _I need you so much, oh god._

At some point, Julian stops the kiss to catch his breath. Barry reluctantly allows him to detach his lips from his.

“Barry, is everything fine?” That wasn’t what Barry had expected to hear after that soul-ripping kiss. “You kiss as if something terrible is going to happen to us.”

_Oh, something terrible, no_ “no, of course not,” then to Julian’s disbelieving look, “it’s just that I had this dream this morning that we had broken up. It was really horrifying and the thought of not being with you really scared me.”

A soft smile blooms across Julian’s well-kissed lips that throws Barry’s world into a vertigo of affectionate emotions. He touches the side of Barry’s face gently as his blue eyes bore into the depth of his soul. “Barry, I’m not going anywhere. As long as you want me, I’ll stick by your side.”

Barry grabs the sides of Julian’s face in a firm grip, gazing with resolute eyes at the British man. “Julian, I will always want you. Always.”

A look of relief brushes past those blue eyes, “Hmm, I can do always too,” and he leans forward to place a chaste kiss on Barry’s lips, sealing the promise.

Barry feels his heart drop into the abyss as he realizes what he has just promised Julian. _Always...I promised him always when I knew my past self is going to break up with him in four months from now._

But there was no way he could fix that. _I’m not here to fix anything._ “I...I gotta go now, um the conference and all,” Barry steps back hastily. “I’ll see you again, I mean I see you in the afternoon.” He stumbles over his words, suddenly feeling out of sorts as if having stepped into a trap and now dangling upside down from the ceiling.

Julian raises a brow at Barry’s strange behavior. “Of course, I’ll be here all day. Make sure to ask Professor Stein for his commentary on my paper on transmutation, though.”

Barry nods absentmindedly, one foot already outside the lab. “Will do. Uhm Julian?”

“Yes?”

_I wish I could tell you that whatever is going to happen to us in four months will never change the way I feel about you now. That I’m keeping my promise to you, I’ll always love you. Please don’t give up on us._

“Nothing. Just take care, ok?”

Julian stares at him in slight confusion. “You too.”

Barry then runs through time, leaving Julian behind, but the broken echoes of the past follow him in like the scariest nightmare of his own construct.

_Time to wake up._

 

* * *

_* Be careful when you fight monsters, lest you become one; for when you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized that I'm basically writing three different versions of Barry and two different versions of Julian. Phew quite an exhausting task lol. So, Julian knew all this time Barry is the Flash but has been hiding it from him, i find that kinda ironic xD Also, Barry went back in time again, naively thinking that it's not gonna change anything in the future! ha this boy never learns from his mistakes :)) Thanks for reading! <3


	8. Chapter 8

> _...and then I was left with all the things I never told you and all the things I wished I could take back.  _

 

_He almost didn’t check his cell phone if he hadn’t needed to take it out of his pocket to check the time on it. He was at the airport, there was only 15 minutes left to his flight back to Washington, and he had 23 missed calls and one text message from Cisco. If it weren’t for the text preview, ‘Barry’s dying’, Julian wouldn’t even bother opening it. He was leaving everything behind._

_'Barry’s dying. Pls get to star labs asap.’_

_He couldn’t deny the urgent tone of the message but he wouldn’t put it past Cisco to use this trick as his last, desperate attempt to get Julian’s attention. He called Caitlin. His call was answered on the first beep, and as soon as Caitlin’s distressed voice reached him, he knew this was no practical joke._

_“Oh thank god Julian, we need your help.”_

_He didn’t need to hear anything more, didn’t need to think twice before making his decision. “I’m on my way.”_

_He always knew Caitlin and Cisco worked with the Flash at S.T.A.R Labs, but not due to their own admission. It was only a logical conclusion, which Julian didn’t really see the need to share with either of them. At some point, he even suspected Barry to be the Flash but there were just too many inconsistencies with that theory. It was an unquestionable fact that the Flash was the fastest man alive, but surely he could not be at two different places at the same time? Not when one of those places was Julian’s arms._

_‘Don’t be a prude, say it right, inside my tight little hole’, a sly voice pushed through the suppressed panic and an impending meltdown, forcing Julian to picture his last intimate time with Barry before everything went to hell._

_“Now’s not the time,” he said out loud without even noticing, causing the Uber driver to give him a look through the rearview mirror._

_He was heading toward a fatal tornado, he needed to get a grip. The nervous breakdown would come later._

 

It was peaceful now, if still somewhat hollow as the void, the aftermath of a war they barely won against inevitability. Julian was resting his cheek on his hand, sitting stiff but somehow still boneless in a chair that should have been comfortable but wasn't, his eyes firmly fixed on the unconscious figure on the bed while his mind was in hibernate mode. He didn't turn around as the door creaked open and didn't even flinch when someone put their hand on his shoulder ( _delicate fingers, soft pressure, Caitlin_ ).

“Julian, you need to rest.” She spoke softly, almost a whisper, as if afraid to wake up Barry, but he couldn't hear them now, he was completely cut off from the world, unresponsive to his outside environment, buried safely beneath layers and layers of medication.

Julian hummed to let her know he had heard her but didn't take his eyes off the bed.

“You lost almost 2 liters of your blood, let your body get some rest, I look after Barry.” She persisted.

“Caitlin, it’s fine. I’m fine.” He was not though. Excluding his kidnapping incident, he had never felt this further from fine as he was feeling now. His head felt like a bloated balloon filled with sands hanging precariously on his neck, he was barely keeping it upright by the support of his hand and the force of sheer willpower, every breath pushed him ever closer to throwing up, every heartbeat felt like a punch hammering down on his ribs. He felt lost, terrified, heartsick and betrayed. But none of that mattered now. _I nearly lost Barry,_ a pulsating thought reverberating inside his skull against the ever cynic voice, _as if you hadn’t already._ He stifled the urge to scream and throw up, focusing instead on his next words to make a coherent sentence. “Plus, do you really think I can fall asleep not knowing if he’s going to be okay or not?”

Julian imagined the tight-lipped smile on Caitlin’s delicate features, but didn't turn his head to see it. He was afraid he would drop down to the floor if he so much as moved a muscle.

“Of course he’ll be okay. I’ve checked and double-checked all his vitals, he just needs some time off for his body to heal itself.”

“I don’t trust medical evaluations Caitlin. I need to see him open his eyes to believe he’s fine.”

What he actually meant to say was _I don’t trust anything anymore_. Least of all, his own mind. _Down, down the slippery slope or am I already too far gone?_ The answer to ‘am I crazy?’ had never seemed to him to be such an uncertain ‘no’; or a disturbingly confident ‘yes’. _Are you brave enough to face the truth?_ Truth? _I don’t believe in any form of truth anymore._

They lapsed into silence, heavy and overbearing, like an uninvited guest that didn't just leave and dragged even more uninvited people into the mess: the memories.

 

_There was blood everywhere, pooling on the floor, dripping from the bed rails, seeping into the pores of Julian’s skin, staining the sleeves of his white button-up shirt up to the elbow. The blood was oozing profusely from various deep cuts on Barry’s body, painting the white canvas of his throat and torso in swirling ribbons of the brightest crimson. With one hand, Julian was pressing down hard on the open cut on Barry’s throat, with another he was gripping onto a shallow but rather long slash on his left wrist. His eyes were glued to the monitor displaying everything that was going on inside Barry’s blood. His vital signs were almost nonexistent._

_It only took him less than one minute to figure out what he was looking for. He had been doing extensive research on ‘Slasher’ for a week, had stayed up until the wee hours of the morning analyzing the victims’ bodies in hopes of finding what had caused them to bleed out in such a short span of time and usually from rather insignificant wounds. But what the dead bodies no longer had to offer, Barry’s blood had in plenty: the toxin coursing through his veins._

_“It’s a toxin,” he said in a firm voice, pushing the panic further away beneath his skin. “It’s inhibiting the vitamin K epoxide reductase enzyme in his blood.”_

_Cisco and Caitlin immediately looked at the monitor. Cisco was first to react, “Oh, like an anticoagulant, some kind of- some kind of vitamin K antagonist!”_

_Caitlin’s expression darkened with a new wave of despair. “Only with an instant effect; it’s rapidly depleting his active vitamin_ K1.”

_Julian’s keen eyes found another anomaly in Barry’s blood. “It’s not just the platelets though,” frustration built in his system like a time bomb about to explode. “The toxin is also attacking his white blood cells, turning them against the body and rendering Barry’s enhanced regeneration ability completely dormant.”_

_“It also dissolved the nonabsorbable sutures immediately after I just put them in,” Caitlin said in a distressed voice, expression twisted in extreme concern and helplessness._

_“What should we do?” Cisco’s voice quivered in panic._

_There was only one thing they could do at this point. “Blood transfusion,” Julian said with finality._

_Caitlin’s eyes shone with resolve, “Ok, I’ll go check the blood bank.”_

_Julian stopped her immediately, “Don’t bother. We match.”_

_Caitlin gave him a fear-stricken look, “We’re going to need a lot of blood.”_

_“And we’re running out of time, let’s do it.” Julian snapped._

_Cisco turned worried eyes from Caitlin to Julian, “Julian…”_

_“I said let’s do it, goddamn it!” There was a ticking bomb in his head, the cancerous thought of losing Barry, and he was far beyond the point of having an ounce of concern for his own well-being. He’d jump right out of the window if it were the only way to save Barry. This was nothing._

 

“Do you really need to go?”

Caitlin had one of those soft, calming voices that still managed to reach through all layers of recollection and detachment from present to drag you all the way up to the surface to breathe.

Julian pulled himself out of the replay of the past couple of hours with a sigh, “I don’t have any other option.”

“Why not? What really happened between you two?” She put a delicate hand on his thigh, Julian pictured the lines of worry on her forehead and the anguished look in her honey-colored eyes. He knew that Caitlin did not come into the room to check on Barry. She was here to keep an eye on _him_.

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Your decision or his?” Her tone had a hardened edge to it, as if she had already made up her mind to direct all her admonishing lecture at Barry once he woke up.

“It was a mutual agreement,” Julian said flatly.

Caitlin moved her hand from his thigh to rest it gently on the side of his face. Julian turned slightly into her touch, already hating himself for needing the comfort, the care, when he was trying so hard to let go of them all. “You can work through this, Julian. Barry loves you, and you just saved his life, surely you can both find it in yourselves to forgive the other for whatever has pulled you apart?”

Julian turned his head away, causing Caitlin to drop her hand into her lap. “Barry is in this mess because of me, because our breakup distracted him when he went after the meta.” Sometimes he preferred to be painfully honest with himself so that no outside slight would hurt him more than what he had already inflicted on himself.

“But he survived this mess because of you.” Sometimes, Julian really admired Caitlin’s steadfastness in the face of all odds and adversaries. Not this time, though. He wished she would just drop the issue already.

“I can’t keep him on the edge forever, Cait. It’ll better for both of us if I just leave.”

“Don’t make me laugh, Julian. I’ve never seen you look so miserable and withdrawn. What happened to you?”

_What happened to me? “_ I wish someone would tell me.” He didn’t even mean to say that out loud. _How far down am I going to slip before I hit the rock bottom?_

“Julian,” she called his name in a firm, demanding tone. Julian turned toward her involuntarily. “I know I don’t have any right to ask you this, but please stay.”

“Don’t worry Cait, I’ll keep in touch with you.”

“I’m not asking this for me, Jul. Do it for Barry. For the Flash.”

The Flash. Julian had yet to have some private time to himself to reconcile the troubling thoughts in his head, and subdue the nauseating feelings of hurt and betrayal in the pit of his stomach.

_‘Hey Jul, here’s your lover - oops, I mean_ **_ex_ ** _-lover, almost dead, can you do something? And oh yeah he's a meta and not just any meta. He's the Flash. Yup, you’ve been dating the superhero of Central City this whole time and no one bothered to tell you. It’s not that you two were madly in love or anything. Certainly not our Barry. He couldn't care less about you. Did you really think the Flash would commit himself to someone as insignificant as you? Heh, you're not even a metahuman why would he care at all.’_

But that wasn't how the conversation went down.

 

_“Julian, I need to tell you something. Barry is- ”_

_“The Flash. Of course he is.” He said numbly, and pointedly ignored the sad look Caitlin gave him in pity on their way to the medical wing._

_“How long have you- ”_

_“During the drive back here. It was the only logical conclusion.”_

_“I’m sorry we didn't- ”_

_“Doesn't matter. How's he? Update me on his condition.” Like always, the time for breakdown would come later._

 

Caitlin took his prolonged silence as his tentative acceptance of her request. “He needs you, you know he does. You’re the expert on metahumans, you’re a quick-thinker, you can keep a cool head during crises and be the one who finds the solution when everyone else is busy panicking.”

“You’re asking me to fill in Dr. Well’s position on the team.” He knew who Harrison Wells was. Once he arrived in Central City, he spent almost a month on learning about every little dirty secret the city was hiding beneath its pretty exterior.

Caitlin didn't even look surprised at the mention of Dr. Well’s name. “If you want to look at it that way.”

Julian looked down at the slightly oversized S.T.A.R Labs sweater Caitlin had given him to wear to replace his ruined, blood-soaked shirt. _See, they’ve already initiated you into the team_.

“On one condition.” _This is a bad idea_ , the voice whispered lewdly in his head, not as a warning but in chirpy anticipation.

Caitlin nodded her head in agreement. “Whatever you wish.”

“Barry is not to know about this. He is not to know about my part in his rescue and what I had to do to keep him alive, the fact that I know he’s the Flash and my future contributions to the team.” He said that all in one breath, not giving the voice in his head any time to put in some sordid suggestion.

“Julian, this will only end up hurting you more.”

He turned his head toward Caitlin’s frowning face, locking blurry eyes with her similarly fatigued ones. “Well, either you agree that I hurt by staying here or you just let me go.” _You can’t fool her, Jul. She’s onto you. She knows deep inside you’re actually begging her to ask you to stay._

“Fine. We keep the whole thing from Barry.” _Oh was that a sigh of relief I heard inside your head? Yup, it totally was. Oh Jul, you just signed your own death warrant. Can’t say it’s not gonna be an interesting ride from here on._

Julian ignored the voice, the jumbled thoughts, the turbulent feelings. ‘Don't give the tiniest fuck to all that you feel’*, that had been Julian's defense mechanism throughout his life. He had a feeling he was going to be completely dependent on it for months to come.

 

***

 

Every little trip into the past makes the next one easier, less guilt-ridden and more urgent than the last. Barry has drawn up a timetable for his dates with Julian based on the times his past self had made absences because of Flash business. With a sinking heart, Barry realizes that his past self had been spending most of his time away from Julian, going after metas and chatting up with Cisco and Caitlin at S.T.A.R Labs instead of treasuring every little moment he could have with his lover. _He didn’t know he was going to lose Julian so soon_ , Barry thinks as he reaches across the table to grab Julian’s hand. He loves their lunch dates during Autumn, with the sound and smell of the rain in the air, and the warm look in Julian’s blue eyes that settles languidly in the pit of Barry’s stomach like a peaceful, fuzzy feeling. He feels happy and content, looking at his own smiling face in Julian’s large pupils, reflected back at him like a boat rocking back and forth on gentle waves. Right here in this moment, nothing matters more than the reassuring pressure of Julian’s fingers around his, the little smile that he can’t hide beneath his serious front every time Barry says something endearing, the way he cants his head in charming embarrassment when Barry launches into a long speech listing everything about Julian that makes Barry fall deeper and deeper in love with him. Every time they kiss, over candlelit dinners, in midnight drizzles, on Julian’s couch while watching a classic, at the lab when Julian’s too preoccupied with work ( _‘Allen, I’m just a few steps away from cracking this case, can this wait till we finish work?’ No, it really can’t. Barry doesn’t have enough time to wait. He’s basically living on borrowed time.),_ every single time their lips touch, Barry finds himself even more obsessed, more addicted to the taste of Julian’s lips in his mouth.

It was during their twelfth date in the past, snuggling close to one another on the couch at Julian’s place, with Barry’s head resting on Julian’s tshirt-clad chest, listening to his calming heartbeats, while Julian carded his long fingers through Barry’s hair soothingly, that Barry realized his visits to the past were not completely as ineffective on the timeline as he had once thought it to be. Sure, he was not changing the course of any past events, but he was slowly changing the way Julian felt about Barry. Not him, because his presence was a cheat at this point in time, but the Barry that belonged to this time, the Barry that loved Julian but perhaps not to this extent, the one who would spend hours away from Julian and lie to him every time about his absences, the one that had never taken Julian out for romantic dates, had never had the time to stay at his place to watch Casablanca, The Wizard of Oz or Sunset Boulevard. The Barry that could break up with Julian over the smallest thing because he knew nothing of the anguish and hollowness that would follow in the wake of Julian’s absence.

When Julian leaned down to kiss the top of Barry’s head with a whispered, ‘don’t you ever dare go away Barry Allen’, assuming he had fallen asleep, Barry’s heart twisted painfully inside his chest.

He stayed away from the past for a whole month after that before he could not take it anymore. He went back, like the addict that he was. He went back like a selfish lover, knowing full well that he was making the coming breakup especially more difficult for Julian to handle.   

He went back because he was slowly losing his whole purpose in the present. The past was gradually becoming a time for him to exist. How could he stay away from that when the greatest yearning of all human beings is to feel alive?  

 

***

 

“Whatever it is you're doing, you need to stop!” The Flash shouts across the rooftop of a skyscraper in the heart of Central City, keeping a safe distance from Alchemy.

The man in the black cloak and the mask is holding his right hand in the air, fingers firmly grasped around the stone that seems to be the source of all his powers. And he is powerful, and slippery and shrouded in thick layers of mystery. Barry has never been outsmarted by a villain for this long, even his past self had been unable to discover whose face hid behind that mask and what his master plan was by restoring powers to the metahumans in this new timeline. Just last week, he gave Wally his speed back, despite the team’s efforts not to let that happen, and Barry was yet again unsuccessful in apprehending Alchemy. Although on the surface, there seemed to be no ill intention involved in giving Wally his metahuman ability, it still left Barry with a strong sense of foreboding. Alchemy needed to be stopped, whatever his plans may be.

“Why?” Barry can’t place his voice. It’s artificial. Nothing about his appearance has yet given the team any clue about his identity.

“Why? Because you're hurting people.” Barry shouts against the howling of the wind and the incessant rain whipping him in the face. Alchemy seems to be unaffected by the weather, striking an intimidating pose against the moonlit, dripping darkness of the night. His cloak doesn’t waver in the wind or even look wet.

“Am I?,” there is slight amusement in his voice which makes Barry imagine a smirk behind that bird-like beak mask that makes him resemble a plague doctor in the 17th century. “Is giving them back their rightful powers which you stole from them hurting them?”

“Barry, what’s going on?” Cisco’s voice came through his earpiece but he ignores it. “I’m not talking about the metas. I’m talking about the people these metas you create hurt! They're all criminals and you need to stop giving them powers that they're gonna abuse.”

Alchemy gives a harsh laugh that sounds disturbingly threatening in that artificial voice and carried over on the howling wind. “Hmm, abuse of power? You are one to talk Flash.”

“I never-”

Barry’s protest is cut off by Alchemy’s sarcastic tone. “Oh so you don't think going back in time and changing things around for a purely selfish reason is an abuse of power?”

_Going back in time? How does he know about that?,_ Barry thinks in rising panic but files the thought away for later. “I fixed that!” He shouts back in indignation instead.  

“Did you? Are you really so naive as to think everything is as it should be with this Earth?” Alchemy gives a short pause and spreads his arms wide to give a half spin in the rain. With that dark, thick cloak and the raindrops bouncing away from his body like bullets as if repelled by some sort of magnetic field, Alchemy looks like a figure from Barry’s childhood nightmares. “Look around, Flash. You haven't fixed anything. I am!”

Then he disappears in a cloud of smoke, leaving Barry confused, scared and completely off his game.

“Barry, what’s going on on your end we couldn’t hear anything!” Caitlin talks into his earpiece in a concerned voice. Barry feels off-balanced, he can barely move his jaw to form the words through his utter confusion and sheer panic. _Who the hell is he? How does he know about the time travel? What did he mean by fixing things?_ “Nothing, guys. I’m heading back now.”

 

 

* * *

 * a free translation of this German line by Brecht: 'Allem, was du empfindest, gib die kleinste Größe.'  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I have zero medical knowledge, but I did consult a friend on this and did some little research, so apologies if the descriptions seemed weird or anything.  
> Jul said in 3x09 that Alchemy has been terrorizing the city for years so I assume Alchemy was around after the particle accelerator explosion in the new timeline and started restoring powers to all that were supposed to have them even before the original Barry returned to the point he'd left. Fun fact: 'Slasher' was also one of the metas alchemy gave power to xD oh and i totally predicted the whole 'caitlin offers julian a job' in 3x10 synopsis haha. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! <3


	9. Chapter 9

> _ The sun has been setting for years behind the wintry aloofness of your eyes. And here I am clinging to the far end of your eyelashes begging you not to blink me away.  _

 

He no longer knows what he is doing, but his throw has missed the mark by a long shot and he is unwilling to end the game now, afraid of the end results. He needs to keep doing this, grasp at every straw, crawl on his hands and knees if it came to that, beg for every second that he is stealing from someone else’s life, he will ask for forgiveness later, repent for all his sins and selfish decisions only when he finds himself stuck in a quaking bog, with no other way to proceed but downwards. But for now, he will keep wading through the mud and grime because there is no possibility of going back nor any desire to stand motionless in time.

Love has never felt so disintegrating before, but Barry needs to keep it all together for a while. Until he gets a taste of Julian’s warm skin on his tongue, and swallows his perfect little whimpers that he pushes through their latching mouths every time Barry hits him in the right spot. Barry needs to know how making love to Julian Albert feels like, and he is here now. Backed himself into a corner of desperation and despair, but still looking forward. Tonight would be theirs, gentle and enthralling and boundless, if Barry could just shut down the higher faculties of his mind except for the will and step on the grabbing claws of his conscience like he is beyond good and evil. Phasing through the thick walls of common sense and responsible conduct, Barry Allen truly knew how.

“You came back,” there is a small, barely noticeable hint of cautious happiness in Julian’s voice, wrapped carefully inside a tone of neutral observation and years of holding his feelings down like some kind of untamed animals.

Barry walks on feather-light steps the distance from the door of Julian’s bedroom toward the man himself, sitting up in bed with a book in his hands while leaning his bare upper body comfortably upon a pile of pillows propped up against the headboard.

Barry allows his gaze to run unhurriedly and unashamedly over the gentle curve of Julian’s pale and toned shoulders, the delicate protrusion of his collarbones, his long, sinewy arms, the tight dusky nipples on smooth, almost hairless chest and the hard flatness of his stomach disappearing into the white sheet wrapped around slender hips. _Is he naked underneath,_ Barry wonders with a kind of feverish deliriousness that he hasn’t felt in years, reaching for the memories of his past self to complete the picture. _Yes, he always sleeps naked in bed when Barry is staying over because ‘what would be the point, Allen? You’re going to strip me within the two minutes of going to bed anyway. Might as well save myself from the whole trouble of dressing up as a feeble attempt at seduction.’_

Now Barry wouldn’t call anything that Julian did as a ‘feeble attempt’, especially not the ones that were done with the intention of pushing all of Barry’s hot buttons all at once and reducing him to an inconsolable state of yearning.

He invites himself to Julian’s king-size platform bed, sitting close to his outstretched legs under the sheet. Heat rises up his neck from the proximity, yet he somehow manages to keep his imagination from slipping. Julian gives him a patient look, eyes much warmer than the color blue has any right to be.

“The conference got postponed because a group of top-notch scientists flying from Tokyo got stuck in the snowstorm,” he smiles as Julian leans to the side to put the book on the bedside table, then his breath catches in his throat as the sheet slides a bit down Julian’s hips, exposing his v-line and the seductive swell of his ass. “I...took the first flight back to Central,” his eyes follow the movement of Julian’s hand as he pulls the sheet back up around his waist, “to...spend the rest of the night with my beautiful birthday boy instead of loitering aimlessly around for two days.”

Barry has done his research. If Julian were to check, he would see that there has been indeed a severe snowstorm hitting Tokyo over night and causing all flights to be canceled. He wouldn’t be able to read anything on the Internet about the rescheduled conference on sonic technology in Star City, though. In truth, because there was no such conference; but the lie of the matter was that the past Barry had told him the conference was actually a secret gathering of the world’s best scientists and he was going to be the emotional support for Harthley Rathaway during his lecture. All these lies just so Barry could conceal his secret identity from Julian. Why? Was it a lack of trust? A lack of foresight ? Or had he really thought he was protecting Julian this way?

Barry doesn’t have any answers for that yet. What would _he_ have done? What _has_ he? He hasn't told the Julian in his own time about the Flash, either. And his reason? _Still waiting for the opportune moment to strike._ Right. Too engrossed in the past to worry about the future, Barry has been hearing the screeching noise of the alarms going off inside his head for days. This is his last stop in the past, he has sworn to himself. Just one last night with Julian and he will leave the past where it actually belongs.  

“That's...actually quite romantic of you,” he says ‘romantic’ as if it is an unfamiliar, undefined concept in their relationship. “Didn't know you had a romantic bone somewhere in that ‘I’m-too-hotheaded-and-impatient-for-romance’ body of yours.”

“Glad to see I can still surprise the ‘I’m-too-observant-to-let-the-slightest-detail-go-unnoticed’ mind of yours.” Barry retorts cheekily.

“Not surprised though. As you can see I’m not wearing anything in bed,” he lifts up the sheet and pulls it off his body, revealing his half-hard cock nestled against a thatch of dark pubes around the base of it. He doesn’t appear to be making a show of it, as if he knows he doesn’t really need to. Barry’s heart starts pounding so hard that he thinks Julian must be able to hear it. By now, he is nothing more than a ball of messy, conflicting feelings of excitement, apprehension, impatience and dread. “Knew you’d come back.”

“Knew or hoped?” He tries to keep the stifling tone of arousal in his voice to a minimum level as he leans to brush his wet lips against the hollow of Julian’s exposed throat.  

“Keep that cheeky attitude up and there won't be any shagging tonight,” his voice, however, comes out huskier than usual, his accent thick and laced with urgency, breathing deep and noisy in the quietness of the room.

Barry runs the flat of his tongue straight up Julian’s throat, licking his Adam’s apple and dragging his lips all the way down to the base of his neck to suck at a spot that he knows will drive his lover crazy with want. Julian brings up his hands to tangle his fingers into Barry’s hair, pulling his head closer to his body and encouraging him to keep sucking at that special spot, as he soon unravels into a whimpering mess, calling out Barry’s name over and over like a healing mantra. By the time Barry pulls away, there is a large, reddish bruise forming on Julian’s pale skin, right next to his left collarbone. It looks harsh, possessive and painful. Julian looks down at Barry’s handiwork with approval.

“Always knew you were a kinky bastard under that by-the-book exterior.” They lock eyes and Barry knows he will do everything in his power to make this night as special as it could be for Julian.

And tonight is truly significant, not just because of Julian’s birthday, but also because it is the night the Flash took on Zoom and defeated him. His past self didn’t return to Julian's place until morning, too caught up with everything after the demise of Zoom to be able to act normal around his boyfriend, so Barry has many hours to spend with Julian without having to look for a plausible excuse to leave when clearly, neither of them wants to.

Barry helps Julian get comfortable on the bed as he settles between his lover's thighs, lowers his head, runs his tongue over the length of Julian’s cock, and over his hole. Julian gasps and his hold tightens around Barry’s shoulders, blunt nails digging into soft flesh. Barry takes that as the encouragement he needs to push the tip of his tongue inside. Julian lets go of one of his shoulder to clench his fingers around the bed sheet, lifting his body involuntarily and allowing Barry better access to further push his tongue in.

“Barry, what are you doing?” His accent is thick and the voice is breathy and the tremors of his thighs held loosely over Barry’s shoulders are pebbles skipping further and further across Barry’s deep-seated feelings, bouncing off his heart and sinking where he can never retrieve them.  

“I wanna discover you all over again,” he whispers the words across the smooth skin of Julian’s slender thighs, closes his eyes for a few seconds to immerse himself in the moment to the point where he forgets everything but the depth of his ardent love for the man under his touch.

 

*******

 

Silvery moonlight has sneaked its way into the bedroom through the drawn curtains, draping itself languidly all over the bed, allowing Barry to trace the few scattered spots on Julian’s pale back with his eyes. Listening to his soft, even breaths, watching the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders, feeling the heat coming off his bare skin like a coy invitation to taste and tease and trust. For the first time in a long while, Barry finds his mind silent and at rest, all the conflicting voices taking a break from admonishing him, all the sirens turned off. He made mistakes and lost too much to get a hold of this fragile, peaceful moment now. And if this, too, turned out to be a mistake, a tragedy in the making, Barry has been immersed too far deep underwater to find his way back up. _Might as wall enjoy the drowning while I’m still alive_ , he thinks with a wry smile on his face which he brings closer to the back of Julian’s hair, nuzzling his nose into the tangle of thick blond strands and loving the soapy clean fragrance on them.

“Barry, you awake?” His voice is low but doesn’t sound scratchy with sleep. It’s almost 2 in the morning and Barry wonders briefly what has kept _him_ awake before his attention slips back to the subtle shift of muscles beneath Julian’s skin with every shallow breath he takes.

“Yeah, do you want another round? You can top this time.” The thought of having Julian’s cock slide all the way inside him sends a shiver down his spine. Barry presses his chest even closer to Julian’s back, snaking his arm around his waist and brushing the tips of his fingers across his lover’s taut stomach. The little gasp that escapes through Julian’s lips is the sweetest sound to his ears.

“Damn, where do you even get the stamina?” Barry nuzzles playfully into the crook of Julian’s neck, breathing hot puffs of air on his slightly chilled skin. Julian shifts under the tickling sensation and turns around to face Barry, eyes somewhat less blue and more gray in the waning moonlight. “But no, I need to tell you something important.”

_I’m not the one you should be telling important things to,_ Barry thinks in barely controlled panic, trying to find an excuse to stop Julian from telling him something that would make a change in the course of the past events. Plus, if Julian chose to tell whatever it is to him now, there was always the strong possibility that he wouldn’t say it a second time to the Barry of his own time. _Oh, no._

“I’m actually pretty knackered, Jul, can this wait till morning?” He fakes a yawn, and moves away from Julian, ignoring his earlier fervid remark for having another round of mindblowing sex with the Blond. _I shouldn’t have stayed around for the cuddles, damnit._

“I don’t think I’ll be able to muster up enough courage in the morning to tell you this,” he sits up in bed and pulls up the sheets around his narrow hips in an endearing display of modesty; _I left a bite mark on his hipbone,_ Barry thinks with heady awe. “It’s now or never, Barry and I really don’t want it to be never.”

_I can’t really escape this,_ Barry sighs inwardly and drags his body up to lean against the headboard, _I’ll think of something later._ “Ok, you’re worrying me now. What is it?”

“I have a condition,” he pauses to bite down anxiously on his lip. Barry holds his breath. “A mental one, some sort of a ...disorder.”

_What..._ Barry can’t think. He needs to get out of here but his eyes are glued to the subtle display of fear on Julian’s pale, drawn face, mind completely transfixed by the words that are not meant for his ears but cut across his equilibrium nonetheless, making him stumble forward like a drunkard.

Julian takes Barry’s silence as a motivation to go on, “I’ve been experiencing memory gaps for some two years now, blackouts, coming to myself at places that I’ve got no memory of ever going to. Losing chunks of my episodic memories, inability to remember what I had been doing in a specific period of time. They call it dissociative amnesia, but I don’t know.”

Julian rubs his hand across his face in frustration and looks at Barry with anxious eyes, as if afraid of his reaction to this.

Barry reaches out a hand to gently grasp Julian’s tensed shoulder. “Julian, love, are you seeing a therapist?” He asks in the softest voice he can manage, as if Julian is a wounded animal about to bolt if Barry were to make the slightest wrong move.

Julian allows the touch, but does not allow himself to seek comfort in it. His posture remains rigid and his eyes refuse to look anywhere else but at Barry’s, as if scared of being suddenly attacked if he so much as blinks. “Yes, I am. She says this condition could be due to a childhood trauma, you know that whole ordeal when I was 15. I’ve been using various medications and gone through all forms of therapy, I even keep a journal at hand to write down things that I might forget. The blackout episodes are less frequent now but they haven’t completely gone away.”

Barry moves closer to Julian, putting an arm around his shoulder and bringing his body in contact with his own. He brushes his lips softly across the smooth line of Julian’s neck, from the spot under his ear down into the hollow of his collarbone. He notices the slight shiver, the sagging of shoulders, the quickened pulse against the soft pressure of his mouth, the barely audible sigh of relief. His mind, though, is frantically searching for a way to fix this. He has a feeling that Julian’s condition had played a large part in his breakup with the past Barry. And what he just revealed to him was supposed to be shared with his other self. Julian is more likely not going to bring up this issue in his conversations anymore, and if Barry doesn’t find a way to inform his other self of Julian’s blackout episodes, who knows what could go wrong from this simple alteration of the past?

_Maybe if I could somehow let my other self know about this..._ “What is the name of your therapist?”

Julian suddenly stiffens in his hold, and turns narrowed, suspicious eyes to Barry. “Why do you want to know?”

Barry is quick to abate the tense atmosphere, “I just wanna make sure you’re getting the best help there is.”

The crease between Julian’s brows smoothes out, but his eyes still look clouded with apprehension. _What are you so scared of, Julian?_ “I am. I’m seeing Dr. Ruth Flink. She’s the best in her field.”

_Dr. Ruth Flink, right._ Barry files the name away for later, and reaches his hand to brush a few stray blond strands behind Julian’s ear. “That’s great, Julian. Thank you for telling me this.”

Julian grabs Barry’s hand and gives it a soft squeeze. He has a hard look in his eyes that clashes unceremoniously with their moonlight-softened blue. “I should be the one thanking you.”

“For what?”

“For being so...understanding.” He hasn’t let go of Barry’s hand yet, as if he isn’t exactly registering the touch, now slightly painful with nails sinking into the soft underside of Barry’s wrist, as if his mind is somewhere else, all sensory signals to his brain blocked.

“Why wouldn't I be?” Barry asks in genuine surprise.

“Somehow, I didn't picture this conversation to go so smoothly.” There is an edge to that deep, British-accented voice that Barry is apprehensive to call attention to, but he does anyway because he’d rather sink than get stuck.

“How did you picture it?”

“Well, there would be a lot of shouting, some finger pointing, the guilt trip, you trying to drill me for so much information about my condition that I’d scream or throw something at your head,” Julian gives a pause to wet his lips, eyes refusing to meet Barry. “I even pictured the worst case scenario.”

_Christ._ “Which was?” Barry asks with trepidation. Has his other self been this awful of a boyfriend to Julian?

“You leaving me.” He finally says under his breath, but Barry hears him loud and clear, as if his whisper was a jarring note inside his head.

“Oh Julian, I would never…,” he suddenly catches himself before finishing the sentence as he remembers that this moment shouldn’t have existed, that nothing he tells Julian now is true because he is not who Julian thinks he is, that he can’t really promise Julian to never leave him when he knows too well what will become of them in a few months’ time. _I’m just messing things up, aren’t I?_ He drags a hand through his hair in clear frustration, wishing he could just pull at the ends and scream his throat sore until he could get his mind back on track.

“What? What is it?” Julian asks in a small voice, lines of worry crinkling his forehead.

Barry wishes he could offer him words of comfort and reassurance that weren’t actually shameless lies. “Can we kiss?” he asks instead.

“Barry, what’s up with you tonight? You’re insatiable like it’s our last day on earth.” Although he is smiling, there is nothing comforting about it. His smile is a wall to shove his fears and insecurities behind, but his eyes are such treacherous bastards. Windows to the soul, those eyes, if there ever were ones.

“It’s your birthday Julian. I just wanna give you the best time of your life.” Half-truths are becoming his forte now.

“Technically, it isn't my birthday anymore,” but he leans toward him anyway and catches his lips in a slow, tender kiss that melts his heart. The kind of sweet, torturous kiss that forces you to close your eyes, put your hands on either side of his face and cling to his mouth and his taste and his scent like a man hanging off a cliff, fingers clasped desperately around frail grass as his last thread of hope for survival.

“It is.” He breathes into his mouth and Barry finally opens his eyes. Julian’s are no longer weighed down with grayish clouds of fear and anxiety. They look as serene and fathomless as a clear, sunny sky in spring.

“Hmm?” Barry asks distractedly, running his tongue over his lower lip to see if he can still taste Julian there.

The smile on Julian’s face now looks as it should be, untroubled, grateful, happy and _right_. “The best time of my life. I feel so relieved now that I told you about my condition. I’ve been struggling with myself ever since we got together, I was never in a relationship before you and never felt obliged to share this secret with anybody else...you have no idea how glad I am that everything just worked out fine.”

If only he could lose his foresight for a moment and share this blissful moment with Julian. “Me too, luv,” Barry once again cups Julian’s still smiling face into his hands and gazes with all the love and yearning oozing out of every pore in his skin at those wide, clear eyes. “I wanna keep kissing you until my lips start tasting like yours.”

Julian lets go of the sheet around his hips, letting the soft material slide smoothly down his skin. “Barry...what would I do without you?” He whispers into their kiss, dragging his lips over Barry’s jawline to leave a trail of wet, tender kisses across his throat.

Barry closes his eyes and allows the euphoric feeling of being loved to completely overwhelm his senses. He runs his hand over the curve of Julian’s back and the perfect swell of his ass, now exposed to the cool late night air and softening moonlight.  “You’ll never be without me. I’ll make sure of that.”

And he knew, right after those words broke away from the hold of his mind to bounce around his skull like echos of a long overdue scream in the mountains, that what he just told Julian was the most truthful thing he had said in his entire life.

*******

 

“You shouldn't be here. If you need an update on our latest husk case, just send me an email through the CCPD’s secure network.” The tone is brusque, almost mechanical, the head doesn’t even turn in his direction, eyes cast downwards at a pile of papers on the desk.

Barry gives the place a cursory look before stepping in. It’s small, dingy, cold and smells of any old storage room, musty, damp, stale air. It is filled up to the roof with beakers, test tubes, books, case files, microscopes, weighing scales, almost as many equipment as there is at Barry’s spacious lab upstairs, which gives the already tiny place an even more claustrophobic feel. Guilt courses through his veins like venom. It is his fault that Julian has to work down here. No wonder the man can’t even bring himself to look at him now.

“This isn’t work-related.” He takes more steps into the lab, eyes resting on Julian’s bent blond head, something like an arrow shooting through his heart when he remembers last night -- or rather some seven months into the past -- when Julian would look at him with tender affection and put his hands at the juncture of Barry’s neck and claim his mouth as his rightful property, _mine, mine, mine,_ he would chant through the kisses as Barry nibbled aggressively on those lips, leaving them chaffed and blood red, _yes, yes, yes_.

He drags himself out of the memories with a vicious pull that feels like he just tore through his own skin and flesh.

Julian gets out of his chair and places his hands on the desk to lean a bit forward and give Barry a cold, withering look. “Then I’ll have to ask you to leave.” His eyes look tired, his tie is a little eschewed, he’s unshaven and his hair looks like a strong wind has just swept through it.

“I’m not gonna jump you or anything, Jesus, Jul!” His voice comes out much louder than he had intended, the words escaping past his lips before his mind could catch up with them. Julian bites

his lip as if stopping himself from taking the same tone with Barry. He casts his eyes down at his fingers tightly curled around the desk, and a strong pang of shame hits Barry right in the heart.   “Sorry I don’t mean to snap at you,” he heaves a sigh and continues in a desperate tone, almost as if he is begging, “it's just a personal matter that I really need to talk to you about.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to avoid by getting relocated to another lab, Allen;” he gives Barry a pointed look, eyebrows raised over pastel blue eyes, “discussing personal matters with you.”

“Must you always be so difficult?” He can’t help the exasperated tone, even though he knows Julian was deliberately trying to get him riled-up, to slip, to say the wrong thing, to make a mistake so he can shove him out, to get away. Barry won’t give up so easily though. He won’t give up at all.

“When dealing with you? Yes.” He confirms Barry’s suspicion with a blase expression and a phlegmatic tone, no trace of his trademark smirk that one expects to go with his contemptuous attitude in sight. _What’s been going on with you, Julian?_

“Julian, listen, I just remembered something. The night of your birthday, when we were in bed together after…,” for some reason, he can’t bring himself to say that word in Julian’s presence, “you know, umm, you told me something.”

Time comes to a halt. Or perhaps only Julian does. Hands stopping mid-air over the papers, eyes glazed over, expression blanking out, for just a few seconds it looks like as if he has even stopped breathing, his heart has stopped beating. Then he looks up at Barry with a horror-stricken expression like he is seeing something in the room that only he can see. Wide-eyed and ashen-faced, as if bracing himself for a fast-approaching train he has resigned himself to be hit with.

Barry stutters, “y-you said you experienced memory gaps, some…”

“No.”

“What?” He asks in pure confusion.

Julian shakes his head with the same horrified expression on his face, pupils dilated in what looks like barely-controlled panic. “G-get out.” His voice wavers and with it, Barry’s whole world tilts to the side, as if the the earth beneath the building has cracked open, swallowing them all.

He struggles with a sudden pang of nausea. “What’s going on, Julian? I don’t understand.”

“Just get the fuck out before I do something I’d regret.” He clenches his hands into fists, making Barry think that the ‘something’ he would regret doing was perhaps a punch right into Barry’s face.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong.” He stands his ground, he’d take the punch if Julian ever threw it, he’d ask why he deserved it later.

Julian walks around the desk in fast, long strides, blue eyes narrowed in seething anger. Barry doesn’t take a step back, although his instincts are telling him to do so. “No, you have no right to demand any answers from me. Get out of my lab.”

Julian puts his hands on Barry’s chest and pushes him away aggressively. Caught off-guard, Barry stumbles back, but he grabs Julian’s wrists to steady himself. Julian ties to break free, but Barry holds tightly onto those delicate wrists, refusing to let Julian get away from him in such a distressed state.

“Unhand me or I’ll file a harassment case against you.” He spits at him in a vicious tone, leaving no room for any doubt that he would actually do it.

Barry looks down at Julian with confusion and despair, but he doesn’t let go. “Just calm down, Julian, I’m not going to hurt you, why are you like this.”

“Fuck you.” There is so much hatred and suffering in that shouted curse that Barry recoils as if Julian had actually gone and thrown that punch after all, his eyes widen in astonishment and his mind stumbles over the next line of reasoning he was going to use on Julian to make him calm down.

Wrists still trapped in Barry’s tight grasp, Julian almost sags against his chest, as if losing all the will to fight. “Why don’t you stop.” Blue eyes prickle with tears, lower lip tremors, forehead wrinkles as if he is going through great pain to stop the tears from falling.

“Stop what?” Barry whispers, afraid that the tone of his voice might be on the wrong frequency that would shatter the fragile state Julian was in.

“Hurting me.” He says in a small, defeated tone, large eyes looking like they belong on a deer caught in the headlights.

Barry feels a sharp bang against his skull, as if the pain coursing through Julian’s veins has turned into hands wrapped around his throat, shoving him backward until his head hit the wall, making the world swim before his eyes. “I’m not...god, Julian, I’m not trying to hurt you. I love you.” Vaguely, he registers that it is the first time he has ever said that to Julian. “I love you.” He says it more firmly this time, with more conviction, more passion, more desperation. Tears finally slide down Julian’s cheeks as his rigid body goes limp and he stops struggling altogether.

“Don’t say that.” He squeezes his eyes shut in an attempt to stop the treacherous tears, or perhaps just so he won’t be forced to look at Barry in such an emotional state. Feeling like the aftermath of a fatal train crash, Barry, now totally drained, releases Julian’s wrists and goes to put his hands on his shoulders instead. Julian violently jerks away as if Barry has sent a lightning bolt his way.

“Don’t touch me. Just...don’t.” He begins aggressively wiping his tear-soaked face on his sleeve and refuses to look at Barry, as if embarrassed for having shown such a blatant sign of weakness while in his presence.

“Julian - ”

“You forgot. You forgot everything. You’re forgetting now. Is this how you deal with your problems? By blanking out on them?” He gives a bitter laugh that sounds harsher against the backdrop of his reddened eyes and wheezing breath sounds. “God, you’re so lucky, wish I could do that too. Wish I could forget you. And all these wretched feelings, and unrelenting memories...this fucking _hell.”_

“I never meant for any of this to happen.” He says apologetically, as if words could ever be enough to take away the raw wretchedness in those accusing, feverish eyes.

“Are you asking for forgiveness?” His tone is mocking although his eyes are still red. “‘Cause you’re out of luck for this one. I’m so done with forgiving you. God, I’m just so fucking done with you.” He turns his back on Barry, but Barry grabs his shoulder to stop him from ending their dispute like this.

“That’s a lie. You’re lying. Julian, look at me. Look into my eyes and tell me you don’t want us to have another chance together.”

Julian turns around, looking up at him with bloodshot eyes and a resigned expression on tear-soaked face. “I’ve looked into those eyes before and told you things that you never believed in. What’s different now?”

“I am.”

Julian’s brows furrow in confusion, and Barry feels a strong push against his chest to reveal everything right here and now. About his being the Flash, about the Flashpoint, the changed timeline, the lost memories, the trips into the past, everything.

But he cowers at the last moment, not quite ready to lose the last thread of hope of fixing things between Julian and himself. “Tell me. Julian, tell me you want me to let go and I will. I’ll let you go. It’ll kill me but I’ll do it. Anything you want. I’ll do anything you want.”

Something changes in those eyes then, something breaks. Like walls going down in the flood, like hands dropping down guns and arms raising above head in surrender. Like accepting defeat because of sheer exhaustion, not because there was no more hope left for victory. “I want you...I need you to remember and I need you to believe me and I want to forget this past couple of months and I want us back.”

Barry briefly closes his eyes and draws a sigh of relief. He opens them to Julian’s determined expression. It is as if the tears never fell, the shouts did not reverberate in this dingy place, the hands were not clenched in barely controlled fury, and the pain did not win.

“I’m going to remember, and it’s gonna be alright. We’re gonna be alright, Julian, I swear. You just need to trust me.”

He takes Julian’s hand and places it gently over his heart. He leans slightly down to touch Julian’s lips with his own. Julian lets him. It’s just a little peck, but at that moment, it means the world to Barry. He has a good feeling about this. _We’ll make this work_ , he pulls away from the kiss with a soft smile on his face. His heart expands with tender affections and relief upon seeing the leftover of the same smile imprinted on Julian’s lips as well.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am truly sorry for the delay in the updates, but in my defense, this chapter was really long, right? I hope I haven't lost my older readers by how much it took me to post this one. I blame a sudden case of depression followed by busy days at work and the difficulty of writing the first part |ω･)ﾉ  
> Also this was the first chapter in the whole fic that I ended on a sort of hopeful note, but you know me, don't get your hopes up too high xd next chapter will hopefully be the angstiest thing I've ever written lol. Thanks for reading, hope you're still enjoying this! <3


	10. Chapter 10

> _ Life goes on, like a gentle stream, sometimes too often, like a turbulent dream, where you wake up not to your own screams, but the words lodged painfully behind your clenched teeth. Sometimes, you just need to take a deep breath and forget everything.  _

 

For the first time in what felt like forever, Julian woke up not with a start after an already forgotten dream which still managed to cause dread to coil intimately around his gut like a mass of indigestible matter, but slowly, drowsily, like he was drugged, high on some unidentifiable substance, his head felt massive on his slender neck, but emptied-out, like an inflated balloon, like his brain had been removed leaving only the bony structure behind, like an unbearable weight had been pushed off his chest, he breathed out and it didn't hurt anymore.

And then he remembered. Last night, the reassuring pressure of Barry’s lips against every inch of his body, the way he kissed his closed eyelids and ran the wetness of his tongue over his eyelashes and dragged his mouth downward to catch Julian’s sharp gasp of surprise. They had fucked before, of course they had, so many times and in so many different positions that Julian had begun to wonder if that was the whole point to their relationship, a long series of hard and quick and desperate for release kind of fucks that more often than not ended with Julian waking up to an empty right side of the bed, but they had never actually made love; agonizingly slow and heartbreakingly romantic that somehow still managed to turn into desperate and rough like Barry’s life depended on Julian’s every moan of pleasure, the way Barry had trailed the soft tip of his tongue along the seam of Julian’s lips like gentle gasps of love brushing across the seams of his heart, the kind of love-making that was somehow entirely focused on Julian’s pleasure and which he had never experienced before in his life and was still unsure if he liked to have a repeat of it or just think of it as a one-time exception that would lose its magic if they were to go at it again.  

When he finally found the will to drag his mind out of the pleasant replay of last night’s activities and his body out of the warm covers to sit up, he realized that Barry’s side of the bed was empty and cold. His heart clenched painfully at the realization at the same time as he tried to push the stubborn thought of ‘everything’s still the same’ to the far back of his mind. He heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair to smooth down the unruly strands, suddenly noticing how sore and taut his whole body felt, a perverse kind of reminder that what happened last night was not a dream.

When he stood before the full-length mirror opposite the bed, with nothing to cover his body to inspect the damage, he was further convinced of the reality of what he had experienced at the hands of his lover a few hours ago, even if the man himself was not there in the morning to confirm that for him. There was a nasty purplish love bite at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, angry teeth marks on his right hipbone, scattered bruises on his chest and arms where Barry had gripped him too hard, long scratch marks along his sides and when he turned over, craning his neck, all across his back. His nipples felt tender and slightly sore when he cautiously touched them with the tip of his fingers, hardened in the coolness of the early morning and the thoughts of Barry’s mouth on them, teeth tugging urgently at them, sucking, nibbling, licking, the bastard knew all the weak spots on his body and wasn’t gracious enough not to use them against him.

His cock stirred in interest as images burst in vivid colors on the canvas of his mind and Julian followed its slow rise against his pale, taut stomach in the reflection in the mirror. His slender fingers wrapped around his erection without full awareness of what he was actually doing, lost in the memory of Barry’s touch and the velvety heat of his mouth, but mostly the look in his dark green eyes, and his urgent confessions of love, like a hundred breathless gasps of ‘I love you’ wasn’t enough, like he was worried that Julian might not have known, like Julian was the focal point of his whole universe and the rest of the world could go up in flames and Barry Allen would have not given a damn because he had Julian’s cock in his mouth.

Closing his eyes and running the calloused pads of his fingers over the smooth line of his erection, Julian thought about the way Barry had looked at him last night, with so much desperation and need, like this was their last chance together on earth and he wasn’t about to give up, like nothing mattered to him in the whole expanse of the universe but Julian’s short gasps of air and drawn-out moans, _‘Say my name, Julian, say my name’_ as if Julian’s guttural howls of _‘Barry, Barry, Barry’_ was the only thing that could save the world, _their_ world, from annihilation. Julian’s grip tightened around his erection and the rough upward pull to the tip of his cock brought out a long, needy moan from the depths of his throat. The sudden unbearable heat of arousal pooling around his groin jarred him out of his trance, but it was the loud bang of the front door that teared him completely out of the act. He knew it was Barry, he was the only one beside Julian with a key to his flat, but he still felt the need to cover himself up, especially his state of arousal that was taking too long to go away. He only had enough time to pull an oversized cashmere jumper over his naked body which passed his hips and barely covered his thighs before Barry called his name in an urgent, almost angry tone. Feeling suddenly uneasy and apprehensive of what could possibly be the reason for Barry’s apparent anger, Julian stepped out of the bedroom and walked slowly toward his lover standing rigidly in the middle of the living room, green eyes narrowed at Julian and the hands holding a manila folder shaking noticeably.

“Hey-”

“Sit.” His greeting died in his throat at the curt, angry command. Before Julian knew what he was doing, he found himself sinking down into the couch Barry had pointed to, eyes not leaving the brunette’s pale face marred with a dark expression.  

“Barry, what’s going on?” He ignored the loud hammering of his heart as his hands pulled the jumper further down his naked thighs. When Barry’s eyes did not follow the move and remained fixed on the folder in his hand, completely ignoring his semi-nakedness, Julian knew something terrible had happened, or was about to.

“What is this? Care to explain?” He threw the folder down on the table, a few papers sliding out of it, and Julian immediately picked it up.

“What- ,” he scanned through the printed papers quickly, eyes catching words and half-sentences in a state of shock, ‘patient Julian Albert Desmond aged 28 in first year of intensive psychotherapy’, ‘first case of experiencing memory loss at the age of 24’, ‘patient diagnosed with dissociative amnesia but certain criteria do not meet’, ‘neuroimaging and blood test ruled out neurological causes and medication side effects of the symptoms’, ‘diligent cooperation but slow progress’, ‘traumatic experience at the age of 15’...he couldn't go on. His hold on the papers slipped as his blood ran cold in dread and an overwhelming sense of betrayal. “Barry! These are my psychotherapy records! You…you went through them.” He couldn't breathe. His hand came up to his neck to loosen the tie that wasn't there and ended up pressing against his windpipe to give the psychological suffocation a sense of the tangible. He couldn't process what was happening. Had Barry read everything in those papers? _God, no, please._

“Why did you go through my files?,” he turned cold, blank eyes up at Barry, as he tried not to wheeze in the graveyard quietness of the room and his mind. “There is confidential information in here, you had no right - .” He was shaking with barely controlled fury, hands clenched into fists resting on top of his bent knees. He wanted to scream but his throat had closed up, refusing to cooperate.

“I had _every_ right to know you were suffering from memory gaps,” Barry cut him off with a glare. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

His question didn't quite register with Julian’s mind spiraling out of control. “What do you mean? I already told you about this.” He put the papers back on the table with a shaking hand, forcing his lungs to take deeper, steadying breaths. He didn't want to lose his temper, not with the memory of that beautiful lovemaking still fresh at the background of his thoughts. _What a total waste._

“No, you didn't,” he said in a clipped tone.

Julian looked up with utter confusion. “I did. Last night. Don't you remember?”

“Last night I wasn't even here. Try again.” Barry sneered. Julian had never seen that particular nasty expression on his lover’s handsome face before now and it made something cold and ugly curl around his heart like a decomposing body of an animal.

“The fuck are you talking about?,” his voice rose in anger. “You came here at around 10 and then we had sex!” _The best sex I had in my entire life_ , he thought almost ruefully as blunt nails dug into the soft flesh of his palms. Then to Barry’s continued blank expression, “Here, you even left a mark.” He pulled the v-neck of his loose cashmere jumper down the pale expanse of his shoulder, exposing his left collarbone smudged with purple bruises and angry teeth marks.

Barry’s eyes slowly moved from the love bite in display to Julian’s expectant face. The green eyes looked pained and shadowed by a jolt of revulsion. “God, Julian who were you with last night?”

It felt like he had just banged his head harshly against the wall, the way pain burst into his skull and flashed a searing white before his eyes. “It was you.” He said numbly, breath barely passing through his parted lips as he tried not to let his facial expressions react to the pain galloping around his head like a wild beast.

“No, it wasn't,” Barry shook his head in disbelief. “I told you I didn’t come here last night. I was at the conference until midnight, then decided to stay the night at a hotel with Hartley seeing as how late it already was, and came back with the first flight to Central. You can ask Hartley if you don’t believe me.”

“I don’t.” He didn't realize he had said it out loud until Barry looked at him with a sour expression. He pinched the bridge of his nose in deep frustration and Julian could now see how exhausted Barry really looked, like he hadn’t slept the whole night, like he just wanted to drop down into bed and sleep for a whole week instead of having this conversation with him now. “Look, Julian, you're blanking out again. You…you went and had sex with someone and now you don’t even remember it!”

“Wha- fuck you!,” Julian got to his feet, even as his spinning head threatened to topple him over. “I’m not that kind of man to go having sex with others behind your back!”

“Well, there is evidence to the contrary,” Barry said unkindly as his pained eyes roamed over Julian’s still exposed collarbone with barely-concealed disgust.

Self-consciously, Julian pulled the collar back up to his neck to cover the mark. “Take that back,” he snarled. He had just begun to realize the implication of Barry’s denial and the thought sat large and heavy against his skull, cramming the space. He didn’t sleep with anybody else. He didn’t.

“Look, Julian, I’m being very lenient with you here.” He was still keeping his distance with the table between them, as if Julian had suddenly contracted a highly contagious disease and Barry had decided he wanted nothing to do with him anymore. “First, you decide to keep your mental state from me like you don’t even trust me with that, and then you go fuck some stranger in our bed and tell yourself that it was me to, I don’t know, make yourself feel better?”

Somehow, Julian was still unsure if this conversation was really taking place. What if he hadn’t woken up yet? What if this was just a nonsensical dream his mind had made up to amuse itself with? And yet, why did the pain feel so real? “None of that is true. It was you last night. I left a mark on you too! Let me see!”

He walked quickly around the table and put his fingers on the top button of Barry’s shirt, feeling slightly nauseous at the familiar smell of his lover and remembering that he had smelled quite differently last night. “Go ahead,” Barry said almost amicably and Julian began to undo the first two buttons with trembling fingers. He didn't know why he was so nervous. The love bite was there, right in the hollow of Barry’s throat. There was no need to panic when he knew the truth of what had happened last night.

Only, there was no mark. _No..._

“So?”

The rest of the buttons came undone quickly and Julian pushed the dark green shirt off Barry’s shoulders with urgency, eyes roaming all over his lover’s chest, looking for bruises and scratch marks that were just not there. Julian backed away as his hand flew to his mouth, eyes large in disbelief and expression aghast at Barry’s unblemished skin. “I swear...god, Barry I swear. I don't understand. It was you. I swear I didn't...I don't do this with anybody else, Barry you have to believe me.”

If he was not careful, he’d break down. He could feel all the signs, the quickened heartbeat, the perspiration at the back of his neck, the constriction of his airways, the way his breath hitched and his eyes blurred around the edges and his shoulders quivered. No, he simply couldn't have a nervous breakdown now. Not when he had made such a good progress ever since he began his psychotherapy. He would not let the man he had come to trust with all his patched-up sanity be the reason he’d relapse.

“You need help, Julian. With the memory gaps.” He sounded concerned and gentle under the frustration and heartbreak over what he presumed to be Julian’s infidelity, but Julian couldn't spare any thoughts on what Barry must have been going through right now.

He shot him a baleful glance under the messy fringe of his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. “I _am_ getting help.”

Barry reached a hand out as a sign of support, a kind of peace offering, but Julian turned his shoulder away to avoid it. “Don’t touch me.”

Barry bit his lip in exasperation. “I’m trying to help you, damn it. Don’t shut me out, Julian.”

“Why are you lying?” He couldn't think of any reason. This was the most cruel game one could play on someone with a fragile mental state like Julian, and Barry should have known better.  

“I’m not lying.” Julian stared into Barry’s eyes for some agonizing seconds and stubbornly pushed back the tears that wanted to spill at the awful sincerity of them.

“You really don't remember?” He asked in a small voice, not trusting it not to break if he were to speak louder. This wasn't the first time Barry had forgotten something, but it used to be such trivial things in the past that Julian had chosen to ignore them. Like looking confused that one time Julian said, ‘Mrs. Robinson, you’re trying to seduce me. Aren’t you?’ when Barry offered to do the paperwork for a month if Julian agreed to let him take full charge of a particular meta case. Barry hadn’t remembered the quote even though they had just watched The Graduate the night before. Or various other similar instances that Julian had chalked up to Barry’s infamous absent-mindedness, but none of those cases had been this grave.  

“Julian, I swear I didn't come here last night. It wasn’t me.” Julian hated him for how honest he sounds, for the confusion and fear and worry that he wished weren’t there on Barry’s expression so he could just turn away and leave, and that absolute faith he had in the stability of his mind and the soundness of his memory. Julian didn't have that luxury. Not with the folder holding hundred pages of his mental condition still lying on the table in front of them, pulling their eyes right back to itself as if it is a time bomb about to explode.

But Julian refused to believe that it was his own memory that was the cause of this messed-up confusion. He couldn't afford that admission now, he’d fall apart and then he wouldn't be able to rise back up. “How did you find out about Dr. Flink, then?” He narrowed his eyes at Barry, waiting to see what kind of excuse he would come up with for this one.

Barry didn't seem alarmed. “Someone texted me her name.”

“Who?”

“I don't know.” He said almost flippantly, like it didn't really matter to him. His lack of concern upset Julian more than he was expecting it to do.

“You don’t know? Don’t you find that suspicious?,” he asked incredulously. “Who’d send an anonymous message to your phone to tell you about my condition?”

“You.” He sounded like he has just thought about that on the spot, and the short, blunt answer threw Julian for a loop.

“What?”

“You would. You sent the text to my phone to tell me about your doctor, and then you forgot about it.” He sounded so sure of that, Julian was almost tempted to punch him. He reached his clenched hands down his hips to put them inside his pockets to abate the urge, only to realize that he was not wearing any pants. Suddenly, the state of his undress made him self-conscious, but Barry had not even once dropped his gaze to Julian’s bare legs and the jumper that was barely covering his crotch. He didn't know why that thought made him want to crawl into a corner and wallow in self-pity.

“Why would I do that?” He asked instead of resorting to fits of violence or pathos, trying to keep a rational head about the situation even though nothing about the situation made any sense to him.

“’Cause you knew you’d forget telling me about it later?”

But Julian couldn't hold onto a straight face anymore. “That doesn't make any sense!” He spat out, feelings of hurt and confusion clouding his thought process.

“Your condition is getting out of hand, Julian.” He hated how easy it came to Barry to make that terrible judgment about his mental state. Didn't he know how absolutely terrified he was of losing control? Didn't he fucking care? Where did the considerate, selfless Barry of last night go?

_Or it could be that he hadn’t even been there in your bed to begin with._ The thought startled an angry, confused snarl out of him.

“No, it’s not me. It’s you!” Julian took a few steps back, as if the added distance would somehow stop Barry’s words from sinking into his subconscious. “You’re the one who needs help. You’re the one who’s been blanking out on this, not me!” 

He couldn't accept that he had slipped. Not for this one. Didn't Barry realize what it could mean to Julian to believe that it wasn’t Barry he had slept with last night? “I didn't fuck anybody else.” He sounded almost hysteric and his hand flied to his chest to claw at the soft, fuzzy material of his jumper to perhaps stop his heart from beating itself into a frenzy.

_I didn’t fuck anybody else_ , he allowed the thought to swirl gently around his head like a dove doing laps, he thought he was staring up at a clear sky and white doves swept from one side of his upturned vision to another. He thought about smelling the rain-soaked grass and listening to the heavy flow at the end of a raging river. Slowly, he brought his breathing under control.

“Was it the same?”

“What?” He was forcibly torn away from that peaceful scenery and dropped unceremoniously back inside his flat. His heartbeat quickened and he almost swayed on his feet. He thought about sitting down on the coach but he couldn't force his legs to walk that distance which would bring him closer to Barry, closer to that horrible... _lie._

“The sex? Was it the same? Nothing different from what we normally do?”

It was a trick question, wasn’t it? It had to be when the answer would only end up incriminating Julian more. But Barry’s expression wasn't spiteful. He didn't look pleased like he had finally won the argument. He looked exhausted and scared for him. And Julian hated him for not giving him the easy way out of this torture. “It was...different. But you said you wanted to give me the time of my life because it was my birthday.” The reasoning sounded childish and pathetic even to his own ears. He wasn't surprised that Barry didn't look convinced.

“Who else knew about your condition?” He asked in a gentle tone, as if the tone alone could distract Julian from the actual intention behind that inquiry.

But Julian knew where Barry was going with this. He thought someone with the knowledge of Julian’s blackout episodes had taken advantage of him. That someone had fucked him when Julian wasn’t quite himself and when he woke up with the bruises all over his body, he had decided to think it had been Barry to make his situation bearable. Something a rape victim would do. The thought made bile rise up in his throat and he swallowed with difficulty to keep it down.

“No one.” He pushed out the words past the bile and held his ground despite the fact that everything was spinning around him and he could hardly feel the floor beneath his cold, bare feet.

Barry’s eyes shone with a thin sheen of tears in the soft glow of the morning light. “Julian...you're slipping."

The tone was gentle like feather but it felt like a harsh slap against Julian’s face. “Don't...don't make me doubt my own fucking mind. Don't make me feel powerless. Don't hurt me like this.”

He’d rather take a beating than being forced to admit he had lost control of his own bloody mind. He wished Barry would have just punched him in the face than told him ‘he’s slipping'. He didn't care about physical pain, he had built a high tolerance for it. But the mental one, he really didn't know how to overcome that.

“Tell me what to do, then.” Barry offered with his sad eyes and in his pained voice and Julian wasn't that self-absorbed not to realize that he was also hurting caged inside his closed narrative of what he assumed to be the truth, and Julian thought maybe they could still fix this.

“Believe me. Just fucking believe me.”

“I’d say I do, but I don’t want to lie to you.”

_I wish you just would_ , he almost laughed at the thought, at the pathetic state of his mind, at the total absurdity of his life. He dug his nails into his bare outer thighs to kill the urge to laugh. Looking insane was the last thing he needed right now. “Wouldn't have been lying if you had just believed me, now would it.” He could actually taste the bitterness of those words on the far end of his tongue.  

Barry looked like he wanted to reach to him again, but his hand ended up tangled into his own hair in clear frustration. “Julian -” 

“No, it’s fine. I get it. Whatever you said last night, whatever you did - _I_ let you do to my body and my heart...it wasn’t you. You don’t want to take any responsibility for that. I get it. And I’m gonna get over it, trust me. But I won’t let you make me question my own sanity. You have no right...no right at all.”

He was panting and his chest was rapidly rising and falling and his shoulders were shaking. He stared defiantly up at Barry and didn't allow the thought that all those wonderful words Barry had told him last night were lies to get to him. Because he got it now and that was all that really mattered. So long as the stability of his mind wasn't questioned. So long as he wasn't forced to think of what happened last night as delusion or rape. Barry had made a mistake and he was unwilling to take responsibility for it now. That was fine. Julian could work with it. So what if he wasn't ready for that level of commitment? If he was going to take several steps back, Julian would go along with him. He wasn't one to be left ahead or behind.  

“Okay, if the lie makes it easier for you to handle the reality, I won’t say anything else.”

_Your reality or mine_ , he thought but did not have any energy left to say it. He just shook his head and went back to his bedroom to get dressed for work, not even bothering with a shower first.  
  
_I didn’t fuck anybody else,_ the thought followed him like a guardian angel all through the day at the precinct with the smell of sex clinging to his skin, and when he finally made it home on his own, he was far too exhausted to be needing the reassuring thought to keep himself distracted from what happened between him and Barry that morning. He could only hope that sleep would take mercy on him this time and keep away the nightmares that he didn't live today.

 

*******

 

He remembers.

Every detail, every motion, every emotion. The pale beams of pink and blue morning light pouring into the spacious, black-and-white-themed living room, the cool breeze passing through one open window and bringing the faraway scent of wet grass and jasmine inside, the thin rays of sunshine bouncing off Julian’s unkempt blond hair, the fuzzy material of his jumper snuggling close to his pale skin, the blue eyes wide and hurt and terrified. Betrayed. Frustrated. Exhausted.Confused. They both had shared all those feelings and each felt the only one deserving of them.

He feels sick.

Barry’s eyes had lingered on the reddish bruise on the juncture of Julian’s shoulder that wasn’t made by his own mouth. Somehow the thought that Julian had not trusted him with his mental condition paled next to the realization that his lover had slept with someone else, on a night when Barry had sacrificed his time remnant to save the whole multiverse. ‘I didn’t fuck anybody else’, Julian had insisted, with those anguished eyes and trembling lips, and Barry had believed him but only to the extent that Julian himself believed the lie. Because Julian had fucked somebody else who was not Barry, the evidence was there even if the memories were all misplaced. Perhaps if Julian had told him about his condition, Barry would have made sure no one would dare take advantage of his lover like that. He would have protected him more, helped him through his therapy, told him about safe words and what to do to make sure he was experiencing the actual reality and not the one made up by his delusional mind. He had felt sick on Julian’s behalf, thinking about stranger hands and a stranger mouth marking that skin. He had felt helpless, useless and betrayed. He had wanted to scream, not at Julian who seemed to be feeling just as helpless and betrayed, but at life that had played them both that way. He hadn’t wanted to seem unfair, to hurt Julian with his words any more than he had already been hurting, but he didn’t know what else to do, how to fix the situation, how to take Julian's pain away when he himself was going through hell. They had drifted apart, then.

He knows what to do now.

He hasn’t been relocated yet. The temporary lab downstairs looks even dingier and more crammed since the last time he was here, which was well over a week ago. He had seen Julian once at a crime scene during this time on their latest husk case (Julian had looked more exhausted than ever, as if suffering from sleep deprivation, dark bags under glazed eyes, unwashed hair and wrinkled dress shirt, but his focus was sharp as he found little clues that would hopefully bring them closer to discovering Alchemy’s identity). He looks better now, neat, soft-looking hair, clean-shaven, pressed suit, matching tie, but with a frown marring his handsome features. He pinches his nose in slight irritation upon seeing Barry in the doorframe.

“Would it kill you to respect my wishes just once?”

Barry walks all the distance to Julian’s desk with heavy steps, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be aggravating or disrespectful, I just need to know something.”

“Don’t we all.” He sighs, dragging a hand almost dramatically down his face. “What is it?”

Barry gathers his courage and takes a deep breath, “I want to know if we broke up over my forgetting about our time together on the night of your birthday and your...your memory gaps?”

“Allen -” he starts in a warning tone, but Barry, not wanting to lose his nerve, cuts him off in a rushed voice.

“Because if that was the cause of it, then I don't see how we can’t get back together now that we both know the truth about that night. I mean, I remembered that you told me about your condition and that it was me you slept with, so if I broke up with you over this -”

“Allen, shut up.” He says in a tired tone, no bite, just a weary kind of patience for a situation that he knows he can’t change, for a man that he can’t just shake off.

“Please, I need to know. And I’m ready to grovel at your feet for forgiveness, I’ll do anything it takes for you to forgive me, anything for us to get back together, Julian please -” He’d be already down on his knees if he wasn’t currently leaning heavily against the desk, hands planted firmly on a pile of papers and face a little too close to Julian’s to be considered respectful to the man’s personal space.

Julian doesn’t even seem to notice, or mind, the close proximity. He looks up with questioning eyes. “Why are you even so fixated on this?” He sounds confused and curious.

“On what?” Barry cants his head a little downward to make it less uncomfortable for Julian to be looking up at him, but maybe so that he could get even closer to that ice cold fragrance of mint, musk and conifer on Julian’s skin. The scent reminds him of that night they spent together in bed. It hasn’t changed one bit, even if everything else has.

“On us getting back together? Why don’t you just leave me alone and return home to lovely Ms. West? Why are you still pushing for this...this broken thing?”

The reason is simple. “Because I love you.” He says it with ease, with honesty, raw feelings. Julian gets to his feet and takes several steps away from the desk and Barry. The storeroom doesn’t have a window to look out of or even that much space to put between them. He leans his back against a bulletin board at the far end of the room and crosses his arms across his chest as if to protect himself, although Barry knows Julian only wishes to look unaffected.

“Love?,” he gives a snort of derision, one corner of his lips slightly curled upward. “Where were you keeping it when I needed it the most? When I begged you to believe me and you said you didn’t love me enough to be able to do that?”

Barry doesn’t know what incident Julian is referring to, but he doesn’t dare ask. “I’m sorry. I was an idiot for letting you go. I didn’t know how much you meant to me until I lost you. But I’m not giving up on you now. I’m not giving up on us.” He finds himself standing close to Julian, reaching out for his hand and placing it gently over his beating heart.

Julian allows the touch.

“It wasn’t that.” He pauses but not long enough for Barry to voice his confusion. “We didn’t break up over this.”

“We...didn’t?” He was almost sure that this was the reason. He knew his past self never considered the possibility of his future self being the one meddling with his affairs with Julian, despite the fact that he had just come back from having created a time remnant.

Julian pulls his hand out of Barry’s grasp to run it through his own hair. “We kept our distance for a week, neither of us willing to admit to be the one in the wrong. But then Caitlin noticed something was off between us and decided to intervene. She kind of forced us into thinking we were being such idiots behaving like school boys with a grudge. So to prove her wrong, we started talking to each other and decided to forget what had happened.”

“You’re not going to tell me what finally tore us apart, are you?”

“You’ll remember soon enough.” His tone is blasé, but his eyes look pained. As if noticing his eyes’ treachery, he looks away.

Barry is almost tempted to grab his jaw and turn his face toward himself, but he allows Julian to do what he does best: concealing his true feelings. “And once I do, you’ll realize that I meant it when I said I wouldn't let anything in the world keep the two of us away.” 

“Such pretty words, Barry.” He has a bitter smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “But I’m not going to hold you up to them, so don’t feel bad if you decided that your love is not big enough to forgive me for what had happened.”

It is baffling how sure he sounds that Barry’s love is not big enough to give them a second chance to start over, but then again, Julian has no idea what Barry has done to have that second chance; breaking up with the dearest person in his life, messing with the timeline, fucking everything up for a little kiss, a little smile, a little love. For a brief moment, Barry considers telling Julian about the Flashpoint, the altered timeline, the fact that he is a different version of his Barry and he doesn’t give a damn why they had to break up in the past. This is about them, right here and now. The past Barry doesn’t exist anymore, so Julian doesn’t need to worry about him at all.

But telling Julian all this may very well ruin the only chance he has to set everything right. He can’t afford any slip-up now that he has come this close to win back Julian’s heart.

“Everything’s gonna work out fine, Julian. You’ll see.”

Julian raises his head to give him a sad smile, eyes communicating to him what his voice doesn’t: _It’s really not, but thanks for trying._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow it's been a long while since the last update hasn't it. I'm sorry for the long wait, this story is particularly very difficult to write because i need to be in the right mood for it to capture all the angst lol. I've been working on this chapter all this time and the next one will probably take just as long (ノ_<。) anyway, hope you enjoyed the update. Next chapter, Barry will finally find out what caused the break-up :) Thank you for reading <3


	11. Chapter 11 - Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part one of chapter 11 - WARNING: descriptions of mind violation and mental torture

**Chapter 11 – Part One**

 

 

> _I call your name like a lost child running through the exit. It's a horror movie where I can't find you where you should be. You take out my heart to stop me from hurting. But it's not the heart, really. It's you._

 

For someone who proudly held the title of the fastest man alive, Barry Allen was not fast enough. Not this time. Not when it mattered the most. Not when the safety of the love of his life had been compromised. By the time he tracked down the meta criminal’s location, he had long left the building and Julian was slumped boneless and half-conscious, with arms and legs tied roughly to a chair in the middle of an abandoned warehouse. Briefly, he thought about going after the meta, he could catch him in less than a minute or two, but the sight of Julian looking sickly pale tied down to the chair decided his priority for him. He could easily catch the criminal later with the help of Cisco and Caitlin. Julian was the only thing that mattered right now.

Quickly, he got rid of the ropes using superspeed, knowing, with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, that Julian was too out of it to notice anything. He took the pliant body of his lover into his arms and lowered him on the ground, resting the back of Julian’s head protectively against his chest, arms slung loosely around his shoulders, fingers rubbing gently at the angry rope marks around those delicate wrists. Julian’s eyes fluttered open at the touch and a low groan escaped his throat. His gaze was unfocused and his breathing labored and shallow. Barry took Julian’s face into his hands and tried to make eye contact. Those glassy blue eyes remained fixed on the space over Barry’s shoulder, unseen. His face felt too cold and clammy against Barry’s dry palms. His slightly parted lips looked almost blue in the dim light.

“Julian, love, talk to me. Say something. Baby, come on, you’re safe now, please look at me, it’s Barry.”

Julian closed his eyes and they remained shut for a few tense seconds. Barry moved his fingers behind Julian’s ears and then upward to card them through the wet, sticky hair at the back of his head. The gesture always worked on calming Julian down whenever he became too stressed-out over a case or when a particular trigger set off his PTSD. After a minute of massaging the back of Julian’s head, the blond’s breathing started to even out and when he finally opened his eyes again, the blue looked sharper and less glazed. He was finally able to register Barry’s presence. He was finally seeing him and Barry let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m…,” he paused, as if struggling to find the words or his voice. “i-in sh-shock.” The stutter and the trembles of his shoulders and the wheezing of his breath were quite worrisome.

Barry’s heart sped up with fear. “Let’s get you to the hospital, come on, love.”

He went to haul Julian up to his feet, but the blond pulled away from the embrace with what little strength he had left. “N-no, it’s...let me…” He leaned sideways and started throwing up on the ground. Barry knelt down next to him, rubbing circles on his back. He had never seen Julian so disoriented and sick before. The sight looked like something out of a nightmare: terrifying, but absurd. Barry couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that his strong, invincible lover was hurt to the point where he could not even sit upright and support his own weight. He had never watched Julian throw up. Not even once. Not even after that night he had almost drunk himself into oblivion when he hadn’t been fast enough to reach a little girl in time and push her out of the bullet’s path. Barry hated this sight. It made a crippling sense of fear coil around his heart and hamper his thought process. He hated not knowing what to do, especially when it concerned Julian Albert.

“Julian...what happened, baby?” He rarely used terms of endearment for his boyfriend, because it didn’t sound right and Julian always scoffed at them in distaste. Julian was arrogant, fierce, imposing, attentive but not exactly romantic. He’d turned down Cisco’s offer for celebrating Valentine’s at STAR Labs to work on a case instead. But he looked so fragile now, like a child victim of a grand, family tragedy, in serious need of help and protection. 

He had stopped retching by now and was pushing his body back to lean against the legs of the chair. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and tried to keep his gaze trained on Barry. “M-mind violation. T-tore down the layers...I...it’s cold.”

Barry berated himself for not having realized that Julian must be feeling cold under that freezing skin and the quivering blue lips. He took off his leather jacket immediately and threw it around Julian, who was only dressed in a white button-up, helping his arms into the sleeves. Julian hugged himself tightly and drew up his knees to rest his head on top of them. He looked small and disturbingly young, with the jacket that was two size too big and those pained blue eyes somehow looking larger on that ghastly white face. A strong sense of protectiveness swept through Barry. He would make that metahuman pay for whatever he had put his boyfriend through.

“It was Mindreader, wasn’t it,” Barry said through gritted teeth. Cisco had suggested Legilimens but the word didn’t make any sense to Barry. Mindreading wasn’t highly accurate for what the metahuman did, either; it was only used as a euphemism. What he did was closer to mind rape, the way he forced his way into the mind of the victim to extract information from it. The more resistance the victim would put up against the intrusion, the more damage the violation would cause to the brain. And judging by Julian’s current state, Barry knew the stubborn git had put up _a lot_ of resistance.

Julian gave a short nod, and wrapped his arms tighter around his midsection and rocked back and forth, as if to fight off a new wave of nausea. Barry sat beside him, putting his arm around the blond’s shoulders and bringing the trembling body closer to his. The back of his head was completely soaked in cold sweats. Barry tucked a lock of sweat-darkened hair behind Julian’s ear with gentle affection. The surge of tender feelings for the man in his arms overwhelmed him. Julian was always so strong, so composed and in control. Barry had never thought he would one day sit beside him on the cold, dirty ground of a warehouse and obsessively think _I need to protect him._

“What did he want?” He asked softly, noticing that Julian’s shivering had subsided considerably.

“Inform-mation. I refused. He d-decided to t-take it by f-force.”

Something about the way he said _force_ pulled harshly at Barry’s heartstrings. “Just how badly did he hurt you, baby?” He was trying to avoid this question, scared of what he would find out, but there was no other way around it. He had to know.

Julian sucked in a shuddering breath. “One h-hour under.”

“Jesus.” One hour under mind violation. Mindreader’s last victim had withstood 45 minutes before he suffered a stroke. Of course, he had been 60 years old and the layers of his mind had been nowhere near Julian’s strong mental barriers. But one hour of that kind of torture was still too dangerous even for someone as young and as mentally-trained as Julian. Barry slid his hand under the blond’s armpit to haul him up. “Julian, we need to go to the hospital now. He may have done serious damage to your brain.” 

This time, Julian allowed Barry to pull him up to his feet, leaning much of his weight against the brunette’s shoulder. Slowly, they made their way out of the warehouse. No police car was in sight. They were always too damn late. Not that the Flash had been any better this time. Barry had learnt about the kidnapping just a few minutes ago as he was busy tracking down another metahuman on the other side of the city. Julian had sent a distress call to his phone the moment the meta had stepped foot into the lab to abduct him but Barry had checked it out too late. 

“I didn’t...g-give him wh-what he wanted.” 

Barry turned his head to look down at the side of Julian’s face touching his shoulder. What did he want to hear? _Bravo for having been brave and holding out to the point where you almost lost your fucking mind?_ “You should have.” Barry said in an admonishing tone, watching Julian’s reaction closely. He should have known nothing he gave to Mindreader would have mattered much as the Flash would catch him before he could even make use of that information. This was such an unnecessary display of courage that bordered on stupidity, and Barry wanted to be angry at him for risking his life and sanity like that, but the weak, pained expression on that sickly pale face had struck some powerful blows to his heart. 

The blond’s brows furrowed at Barry’s tone, in pain or in thought, as he wetted his lips with the tip of his tongue. Barry prepared himself for a stubborn insistence on why non-compliance with criminals even under torture was important, but the stuttered, “Y-yeah.” passing with difficulty through Julian’s chapped lips caught him completely by surprise and made his blood run cold in fear. Just what the hell had that bastard done to him? Barry was ashamed to realize that he was too scared to find out.

 

*******

 

He was having the same nightmare again. The gust of cold air brushing against his exposed skin and sinking in so languidly that he could feel it filling up the pores like some kind of cold liquid; the rough texture of thick ropes wrapped uncaringly around his wrists; his legs held apart by the same rope tying them securely to the front legs of a wooden chair; the dull ache in his neck for having held his head down for so long; the pins and needles in his hands and feet; the unpleasant fog in his head, the unbearable weight against his skull the first few minutes after gaining consciousness. Julian hated this nightmare more than anything else in the world. The reconstruction of that cursed memory in his subconscious was perfect down to the very last detail. He had to somehow wake himself up before he could feel that vile touch against his cheek. But he didn’t know how. 

“Ah, you’re stirring. Come on, open your eyes, I don’t have all day.” 

_What_...that was different. The voice, the words, the sequence of events. Was he having a different nightmare? Julian forced his eyes open, his gaze falling on his legs which were clad in black dress pants instead of slim fit pale blue jeans, and way too long for a 15-year-old boy. Slowly, he raised his head, blurry eyes coming to rest on an unfamiliar face: light brown hair and eyes, pale skin, a jagged scar running from the corner of one eye all the way down to his jaw, ruining the otherwise handsome face. This wasn’t the face in his recurring nightmare. And yet, the features weren't completely unfamiliar, either. Julian knew who he was. Chad Simmons, aka Mindreader, a 38-year-old criminal with at least two cases of murder and 14 cases of theft and torture on his plate. Why was he having a nightmare about Central City’s latest rogue metahuman? 

Unless, of course, this wasn’t a nightmare.

And then it hit him. He had been kidnapped, right from his lab at the precinct, too. Barry hadn’t been in as usual, but Julian had had enough presence of mind to send him a distress call before he was hit in the back of the head and everything went black. He had no idea how long he had been out, but the police should be here any minute now; he just needed to hold out and delay the meta for a little while. 

“Attacking and kidnapping a CSI, that would charge you with at least 10 years in prison.” He kept his tone slightly antagonizing, a little smirk playing languidly on his dry lips, while his fingers kept digging into the tight knots around his wrists in an attempt to loosen the ropes. 

His kidnapper didn’t seem slightly fazed about the prospect of a ten-year sentence. “That is of course, if I get caught. But a more certain scenario here is what I can do to you if you choose not to cooperate with me.” He tapped his index finger against his bottom lip, expression morphed into one of thoughtfulness. “You remember that old business tycoon, Vincent Tylor? Remember what happened to him?” 

He died of a stroke after being subjected to mind violation for 45 minutes. Julian wasn’t worried though. The police were most likely on their way as they spoke. This wasn’t the first time the British CSI was in need of backup and the police had never disappointed him. Once, he was even rescued by the Flash; something that Barry used to constantly tease him about for a long time after Julian let slip that he thought the Flash had a crush on him, what with those lingering touches and the worried voice, repeatedly asking if he was alright. But that was all in the past now. Julian needed to focus on here and now and keep his hopes high.   

Simmons placed his hand casually on top of Julian’s shoulder, and the blond forced himself not to flinch at the unwelcome touch. “Now that would be a total waste if the same fate happened to you, don’t you agree, sweetheart?” 

“What do you want?” Julian almost snarled, refusing to let the use of that term of endearment delivered in such a mocking, taunting tone rattle him. That was one of his triggers. Not even Barry was allowed to call him ‘sweetheart’ or any other affectionate form of address. 

“Ah, you’re one of the smart ones; that’s great. Let’s get straight to business, shall we?” He moved away and the tension in Julian’s shoulders slightly subsided. “I want you to decrypt these files for me.” 

He unhooked a necklace around his neck, and held it so that the small flash drive hanging from the chain dangled in front of Julian’s eyes. 

“What files?” 

“Discriminating evidence against Rachel Simmons for the murder of John Bailey. I downloaded the files from the CCPD Network but they’re encrypted. I need you to decipher them for me and help me tamper with them.” 

It was always bad news when metahuman criminals were related and in cahoots with one another. As if one metahuman wasn’t already too much for the massively under-equipped, at times incompetent, police force. “I can’t help you with that. I don’t know the code.” 

“Julian Albert, is it?” The blond wondered if he had learned his name by reading his mind or his nameplate back at the lab or from his ID card in his wallet. “See, Julian, I’d hate to hurt a pretty little thing like you, I really would. So consider the risks carefully. Now, I ask you again. Will you decipher these files for me or do I need to force my way into you?” 

Julian recoiled from the brush of hot breath against his face. The wording, coupled with that predatory grin, made Julian’s skin crawl. _That bastard_....how did he know? Had he already violated his mind when he had been out? Or was it just a guess? Was Julian really that transparent? Maybe it was the flinch he gave when the meta called him a _pretty little thing_. He hated that expression to the point where he tasted blood, not even noticing that he had bitten into his lip to contain his rage. 

“I told you, I don’t know the code. I’m not the one in charge of that case.” 

His jaw was suddenly grabbed roughly, head brought closer to that scarred, snarling face, and he felt something, a searing pain as if someone was trying to open his skull with pliers, and then a presence, overwhelming and unwelcome, like a piece of cloth balled into the airspaces in his brain. The presence pushed further into his mind and Julian stifled a surprised yelp, suddenly realizing what was happening to him. _Don’t fight back_ , he thought, allowing the presence which felt like an outstretched hand to slide deeper inside. The analogy almost made him sick, but he pushed the bile back, _don’t fight it, don’t panic, it’s alright. This isn’t rape._  

Only, it felt exactly like that. 

“You don’t know the code.” He let go of his jaw and Julian’s head fell against the hard back of the chair with a thud. The jolt of pain from the outside was a relief as it momentarily distracted him from the pulsing pain inside.   

“No,” he pushed the word through his lips with some difficulty, refusing to show how truly winded he was after such a short, insignificant attack. 

“Then tell me who does.”

“No.” His voice sounded firmer this time, as he began to realize the actual severity of his situation. The police were not coming. He was on his own. And he had to persevere and withhold because cooperating with the criminal was not an option anymore.

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“I said no. I’m not telling you who’s got the case.” 

There was no telling sign this time, not even a hand to grab his jaw and force his head up. But Julian was ready. When the presence pushed forward, he pushed back, drew up his walls and let the force throw itself aggressively against his mental barriers like an angry, caged animal wanting out. The walls vibrated slightly inside his head, like ripples on the surface of water after throwing stones. But they held on, and Julian’s blue eyes stared up defiantly at the light brown ones of his aggressor.

“Ah, mental barriers. They’re a good trick, I give you that, but absolutely no match for my power.” He grabbed a handful of Julian’s hair and pulled his head back, exposing the pale line of his throat. Julian hissed at the burning pain around his scalps. “I can shred every layer of your mind and leave you convulsing on the floor while foaming at the mouth. The damage I can do to your brain is irreversible, considering you even survive the attack.” His voice was cold venom, flat intonations, like ice cubes sliding down Julian’s neck and dropping right into the pit of his stomach. He shivered, his breath condensating on the cold air in the abandoned warehouse. “Now, do you really want to risk it, Julian?” 

He didn’t, but what choice did he have? “You won’t get away with this.” 

“And neither will you.” The threat hung heavily in the narrow space between their bodies, like a pendulum blade inching closer with each deadly swing. Julian held his breath and tipped his head back, as if buying himself some time before the blade finally hit him. He was scared, and the admission coursed like freezing water under his skin.   

“Tell me, Julian, or I’m gonna hurt you the way you’ve never been hurt before.” Julian believed him. He had seen that menacing glint into another pair of eyes before. He knew this man was going to deliver on his threat, held back by nothing; no conscience, no fear, no compassion, no remorse. 

But he shook his head, anyway, refusing to give him what he wanted. If he gave up Barry’s name now, Simmons would leave him tied down to the chair and go straight after his lover. And Julian would have no way to warn him in time. 

The third attack felt like sea water flooding his skull. He sputtered and coughed, as if he was really drowning. He tasted warm, salty liquid at the back of his mouth, not exactly registering that he had bitten into his tongue so hard that he had drawn blood. His eyes were wide open but he could see nothing but foaming water, getting into his mouth, into his ears, stinging his eyes as if there was salt in it. If he let his walls down, the water could pass through and maybe he could breathe again. But he couldn’t let go of the walls. He couldn’t remember why the walls were important but he knew he couldn’t afford losing them. He’d drown but the walls had to stay.

“My, my, what is this?” Julian came around with a gasp, breaking the surface. His heavy, irregular exhales irritated his own ears. His lungs burned, as if he hadn’t been breathing this whole time.  “There’s your walls, and then there’s this safe. I haven’t seen a mind with a safe in it before. Who taught you how to build that?” He sounded impressed, in awe, as his fingers grazed the side of Julian’s head, now drenched in sweats or sea water, in gentle fondness. Julian flinched and coughed, his mouth too dry to wash the metallic taste of blood away. “Doesn't matter. I know how to break into the most well-guarded safes. Let’s see how long it’ll take me to break _you_.”

_No...not the safe._ “Stop. Don’t. Please don’t.”

“Oh I love the sound of begging. It’s the sweetest music to my ears.” He grabbed the back of Julian’s head, tilting it to the side roughly as his warm breath dampened the chilled skin of his cheek. “Listen brat. You either let the walls go or I’ll crack your safe and drag out every little secret you’ve been hiding away deep under your subconscious. Now, what’s it gonna be?”

“Don’t.” His voice wavered, eyes large and terrified, heart a wooden ball lodged painfully into his windpipe. 

“Are you brave enough to revisit your past?” No, he was not. That was why the safe was there in the first place, to protect his mind against the onslaught of those wretched memories he had tried for years to leave behind. He once lived through them and barely made it out alive. He couldn’t go through that experience one more time. 

Maybe he should just tell him who was in charge of the case. Perhaps Barry would be rational enough to cooperate instead of letting this lunatic gamble away with his sanity. Julian was now absolutely terrified and past that point where admitting fear could cause him any shame. 

The fourth attack felt like molten lava poured into his skull, dissolving his eyeballs and frying his brain cells one by one. And when the safe was finally broken, Julian could hear nothing but his own screams and sobs, salty tears and mucus dripping into his mouth like a lost little child crying over the dead body of his mama. 

This was far worse than the nightmares because there would be passing out instead of waking up.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Legilimens is from HP. I took inspiration for what Mindreader does from the movie Inception.
> 
> I know I promised to have the cause for the breakup in the next update but this was turning into a monster of a chapter and I had to break it down into two parts if I wanted to have an update within a month. I hope you don't mind! Thanks for reading <3


	12. Chapter 11 - Part II

**Chapter 11 - Part II**

 

 

 

> _There are mirrors where my eyes should be, they show you the world but give me darkness. I am trying to make sense of the buzz inside my head before everything yields to numbness. Don’t leave yet._

 

He was huddled near the fireplace, wrapped into a thick blanket, looking lost and absolutely fragile. Broken, even. His eyes had lost their shine; his shoulders were not held high and back in pride. But at least he was alive, and there was no permanent brain damage done. Just traumatized. Barry would take care of him until he was back to normal.

He sat down next to his lover on a lush rug spread on the floor, wrapping his arm around those slouched shoulders. A mug of hot cocoa now gone cold was left on the floor, untouched. Julian let out a shuddering breath, like a drowned man washed up to the shore, hair still wet with sweats hanging limply around his pale face.

He had stayed at the hospital for only one night. The doctors said it was a miracle that he escaped the mind violation without any permanent damage to his brain. For some reason, Dr. Flink was there too, but she basically kicked Barry out of the room so she could talk to Julian in private. Julian refused to tell Barry what they had talked about. He had yet to tell him what exactly had happened with Mindreader and why he had been reduced to such a fragile state. For a couple that were this compatible and so in love, they kept too many secrets from one another for their relationship to be healthy. Barry wondered when would be a good time to tell Julian that he was the Flash. He had come too close to losing Julian the previous day and the thought of not being able to see him anymore had struck a sobering fear into his heart. They had been together for almost six months and Barry had a feeling they were going to last for many years to come. He could trust Julian with his secret. It wasn’t like Barry was going to let go of the British CSI any time soon. 

“Where’d you been Barry?” The small, accusing voice jolted Barry out of his thoughts. “I sent you a distress call as soon as he stepped into the lab. What took you so long?” 

 _I was having the crap beat outta me by another meta on the other side of town._ He wished he could have just said that, no more lies, no more secrets, no more hiding. He should have told Julian about his Flash identity a long time ago, perhaps when they came out to their mutual friends at the blond’s birthday party or right after Julian’s own secret had come into light. But there never was a good time for such confessions that could potentially put their relationship at risk. The superhero of Central City was just a different kind of coward.   

“I’m sorry, I’d left my phone at home.” A lame excuse, but not too far-fetched for the ‘scatterbrain’ Barry that Julian both loved and admonished. 

Julian somehow managed to sink even deeper into the blanket; “I thought I was going to die and then...I wanted to.” 

His hand gripped the blond’s shoulder more tightly in his shock. “Julian?” He had wished to die? What... “What the fuck did he do?” 

Julian’s eyes remained fixed on the hypnotic swirls of fire in front of him. “He really hurt me...made me remember my past...that kidnapping incident...I hadn’t thought about it for years and he just...dragged all those memories out and I felt...I felt like I was there with... _him_.” 

The way in which he spat out ‘him’ left no doubt as to whom he was referring. Barry was never made privy to the full details of Julian’s childhood trauma but he knew enough of the residue of pain, fear and revulsion on his lover’s psyche to feel an intense amount of rage on Julian’s behalf for what Simmons had made him live through again. “I’ll find him and make him pay for the pain he put you through.” 

The only reason Mindreader was still at large was that Barry was too preoccupied with making sure that Julian was feeling alright. He was imagining bones cracked and broken under his relentless punches, blood and tears and pathetic sniffling and begging to stop when Julian’s words once again made his blood run cold. “I want to kill him.” 

“Julian...no. You can’t have these thoughts, okay?” He shifted away from Julian’s side to sit before him, hands grabbing his face gently and bringing it up so he could look right into those faded blue eyes. “Listen to me, luv. I know he hurt you terribly and that you remembered that incident and how it ended with you killing that bastard but, this isn’t the same thing, okay? You’re not 15 anymore, this won’t be classified as self-defense, and you don’t have the support of your rich family to keep you out of prison this time. If you kill Simmons, you’ll be charged with murder and given a life sentence.” 

Julian’s gaze remained vacant, face lax and expression blank. Barry had to try harder, because he knew Julian was capable of killing, he had the gun, the training and now a perfectly justifiable reason to do it, but the law would not protect him this time, and Barry suddenly realized that there were a thousand different ways he could end up losing Julian, and he was terrified. “Julian, promise me you won’t do anything stupid. Promise me you’ll keep yourself and our relationship safe. Let the police deal with him, okay? Promise you’ll stay out of this.” 

The silence that stretched around them was deafening. Barry had no idea what was going on inside Julian’s head. Those eyes had never been this impossible to read before. 

Julian then dropped his gaze, the tip of his tongue running over his chapped lips, a weak “Alright.” passing through them with obvious reluctance. 

Barry let out an audible sigh of relief and threw his arms around Julian’s shoulders. “Thank you.” He breathed into his sweaty hair, the skin under his ear and his collarbone that was peeking through his wide-neck sweater now that the blanket had slipped further down his arms, ignoring the heavy breathing, the smell of hospital disinfectants and the way Julian’s body tensed in his arms as if his touch was unwelcome. 

He would recover, like every other time, sooner than one would expect, and everything would go back to normal.

 

 

*******

 

He woke up with a jolt from a nightmare that felt too real, like the taste of blood behind his clenched teeth from where he had unconsciously bitten into his tongue, the sharp pain at the back of his head, the cold beads of sweats sliding down his face, his whole body taut and tense with fear. He should have stayed the night with Julian, ignored his protests. Julian had such a meticulous way of pretending to be fine that bordered on self-deception and Barry should have known better than falling for his act all over again. 

Barry dragged his sweat-soaked body out of the bed as he remembered his dream in sounds and fragments – gurgles of blood, choking noises, wheezing breaths somewhere cold, dark and abandoned. Running through the infinite black searching for someone, trying to call out their name but not remembering what that was, not being able to even find his voice, as if being underwater or just mute.   

He looked at the dark circles under his eyes in the bathroom mirror and dragged a hand through his unkempt hair with a sigh. Julian said he would be alright and convinced Barry to go back to the West’s for the night. This was the third time Barry had startled awake from a disjointed dream that night and it was only two o’clock. He was sick of going back to sleep while his mind was on a gradual nervous meltdown.

If he knew caring so deeply for someone came with so much fear and anxiety, maybe he would have thought twice about falling in love at first sight. Loving Julian wasn’t easy, the man had a dark history that he never felt comfortable enough to share with him, but it was almost impossible not to love him. He was beautiful and brilliant and knew exactly what Barry wanted and gave it to him freely, unconditionally, no questions asked, nothing held back.

Barry could never give up on him, fear and anxiety be damned.

Julian’s phone went to voicemail for the fifth time as Barry sped through dressing up. Surely he would have woken up by the sound of that obnoxious ringtone by now. Barry flashed over to the blond’s place, pangs of worry for his lover’s safety making his insistence on keeping his superhero identity from him now quite ridiculous. He ringed the bell at the entrance several times, banged on Julian’s front door and called out his name - relieved that the name came to him easily now; finally phased through the door and searched the whole place in less than a second. Julian was not home.

He flashed over to S.T.A.R Labs, heart beating a frantic pace inside his chest, and turned on Cisco’s computer to locate the blond’s whereabouts.

“What the fuck…”

The dot with Julian Albert tag on it was somewhere deep inside the woods on the West Coast. Together with an unidentified person.

Barry ran.

 

*******

 

He smelled the blood before he saw it, a piercing sense of dread coiling around his heart before he could even register why. The night was cold and breezy, the pitch black overhead almost bottomless, casting an eerie shadow on the ground covered with dead leaves that crackled under his feet too loudly in the otherwise quietness of the woods.

A lone lamp some thirty steps away threw its sad, flickering light on a figure knelt down on the muddy, blood-soaked ground. The hair on the lowered head shone a faded gold under the faint light.

“God, Julian...what...what have you done?”

The head rose slowly, wide blue eyes looking up at Barry with fear and confusion. “I didn’t-”

Barry’s eyes refused to turn to his left where the pale, bloody corpse of Chad Simmons was tied to a tree next to Julian’s kneeling form. “You promised me. You swore you wouldn’t go after him. Why?”

“Barry...I don’t unders-”

“Did our love mean so little to you?” His voice broke in his throat when he realized there was something more significant lost here than the life of a criminal: Julian’s love for him and his trust in Julian. “Was it worth to throw it away for this...this petty revenge?”

The shadowy blue eyes lost their confused look as brows furrowed over them in righteous anger. “P-petty revenge? Barry, he hurt me.”

“So what? You’re a part of the police force for fuck’s sake, this isn’t the first time a criminal has done something hurtful to either of us. But this isn’t how you’re supposed to deal with the pain!” Barry’s voice, almost a shout, rang into the deadness of the night, hands balled into fists at his sides indicative of how upset he truly was.

Julian scrambled to his feet, his pants too dark for the bloodstains to show, but the white sleeves of his dress shirt were completely soaked through. Barry felt like throwing up in his mouth. The stench of blood had never affected him this much before. “This isn’t...Barry, I didn’t do it, I swear. I’m...I’m not upset that he’s dead, but it wasn’t me who did this to him.”

Barry bent down to pick up something off the ground. “Julian...this is your gun which I’m sure has your fingerprints all over it. And this is your fucking tie, is it not?” He grabbed Simmons’ limp head and raised it off his chest, his anger blocking his previous reservations for even looking at the corpse. Simmons’ eyes were covered by a silk yellow tie – most probably to neutralize his power – that Barry remembered clearly Julian had bought a few days back. The hole in his chest right where his heart used to beat Barry was sure now held the bullet fired from Julian’s gun.

“That doesn’t mean-”

“And you had the motivation to do it. You told me you wanted to kill him last night.”

“But I didn’t kill him, Barry!”

“What are you doing here, Julian?” Barry asked tiredly, voice no longer able to convey his feelings. “At 2 in the morning in the middle of the woods over Simmons’ dead body with his fucking blood all over your hands?”

Julian’s eyes darted to the dead body tied to the tree for a brief moment before coming back to stare with horror at Barry’s anguished ones. “I don’t...I don’t remember how I ended up here. I was back at my place working on Harper’s case for hours. I yawned, I was so tired, so I looked down at my wristwatch and it was 12 and….and that’s the last thing I remember. Barry, I didn’t kill him.”

Blue eyes pleaded with him, but Barry wasn’t in a forgiving mood that night. “Just because you don’t remember killing him doesn't mean you didn’t kill him.”

He wasn’t trying to be unkind. He understood Julian’s confusion now that he had no memory of what he had done. But memory gaps didn’t change the fact that it had been Julian’s finger on the trigger; it had been Julian’s gun that shot Simmons; the bullet that had torn his heart apart had been fired from Julian’s gun. Julian could forget that he had killed Simmons all he wanted, but forgetfulness could not bring a dead man back to life.

“But I know-”

“How can you _know_ , Julian? You fucking blanked out, okay? You killed him exactly knowing what you were doing, but then you couldn’t cope with what you just did so your mind wiped the memory off for your convenience. But that didn’t remove this fucking corpse from the tree, did it?”

For a moment, Julian looked like he was going to match Barry’s shouts in the eerie quietness of the woods, but he took a deep breath instead and turned his head to the side, away from Barry and the dead, bleeding body tied firmly to the tree. “I can’t believe you're using my condition against me.” His voice was restrained, shoulders raised high and tense.

Barry wanted all of this to be just another nightmare, where he had no voice to scream in fear and frustration, where nothing made sense and he didn’t mind that; where he would wake up any minute now and leave all of this absurdity behind.

“Just...be rational Julian,” he began in a much calmer tone, although he was feeling far from calm. “Who else would've done this? Ha? Who would’ve dragged you all the way into the woods and killed Simmons for you? Unless of course you’d hired an assassin and now have forgotten all about them too. But that doesn't explain the use of your gun and your tie. Just face it, Julian. You killed him. You killed Chad Simmons in cold blood. It’s not like it’s your first kill, anyway.”

Julian was unable to hold in his anger this time. “Shut up! You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about your uncontrollable impulse to kill anyone who’s caused you pain.” There was some cruel notion in what he just said, which he almost hated himself for giving voice to. It wasn’t true. The only other time that Julian had killed someone was when he was only 15, and even that was in self-defense. He had trusted Barry with that secret and Barry had just betrayed that trust.

But Barry was hurt and scared, and he wasn’t beyond returning the favor when he wasn’t thinking rationally and was only operating on emotional responses.

Julian’s lips quivered noticeably under the dim light, his efforts for pushing back tears quite an admirable sight. “I’m not a killer.” Barry’s eyes unwittingly fell on the corpse and back on the blood on Julian’s hands. There was too much blood on those hands, as if Julian had dug his fingers into the hole inside the man's chest, and the grotesque image burned into Barry's mind like a branding iron. Julian followed Barry’s gaze and brought up his hands to give them a blank stare. “I’m not.” 

If only denial had the power to wash off the blood.

 

*******

 

He returned to the crime scene, like a partner in crime that he soon was to become. He had taken Julian back to his place with the blond's own car that had been parked on the edge of the woods because now was not a good time to reveal his secret identity to Julian. Maybe there would never be a good time for that after tonight. And he came back here to destroy all the evidence that could implicate the man he loved.

Julian might have thrown away everything they cherished together for revenge, but Barry was not going to let the man get thrown into prison. For the sake of all those precious moments they had spent with each other, the happiness and a sense of purpose that the blond had brought into his life, the glint of his blue eyes and the reassuring smile on those lips that Barry just adored the taste of...he would do Julian this one last favor and then…

And then what?

Barry dragged the back of his hand roughly across his cheeks and against his nostrils, wiping away the unwelcome moisture there.

He didn’t know what was worse; that Julian had let go of their love for this selfish pursuit of personal revenge, or that Barry now had to let go of their love as well because there was no point in grasping at straws.  

He walked with shaky steps toward Simmons’ lifeless body held upright with the help of thick ropes around it. Never before had he been this apprehensive about approaching a corpse. He took Julian’s tie off the meta’s eyes and shoved it into the pocket of his jeans. He then phased his hand through the man’s chest to take out the bullet which would have the ballistic markings of Julian’s registered handgun. He left the ropes as they were, but ran a device -- one of Cisco’s too many ‘useless’ inventions -- all over the man’s body to wipe away any fingerprints or other DNA remnants that Julian might have left on him. He got rid of all footprints in the mud and made sure the gun was still safe in his back pocket. Then he stood still for a little while under the flickering light of the lone lamp and took several deep breaths to abate the urge to break down and cry.

Stubbornly, he pushed back the revulsion of what he had just done. He was part of the police force, had sworn to uphold justice at all times, and now he was tainted.

Did love justify all?

 

*******

 

The blood just wouldn’t come off.

The water had been running for a long time, over the blood-soaked sleeves of his shirt and the pale, translucent skin of his hands, turning pink and staining the basin. Julian rubbed his fingers aggressively over the blood, he almost tore into the fabric of his ruined shirt, the sound of running water mingling with his harsh breathing in the loneliness of his apartment, but the blood refused to just come off.

Maybe, it was all in his head.

His head...was a mess; like the aftermath of a massive earthquake, the bone structures had all but collapsed, brain tissues torn apart, thoughts and memories running rampant like wildfire...and that huge memory block. Why couldn’t he remember how all this blood got on his hands? He knew he hadn’t killed Simmons, but what the hell had he been doing in the middle of the woods at that ungodly hour? How did he know that Simmons was there? Did Julian take him there? For what? To hurt him? He had wanted to, and God knew the man deserved it, but Julian had promised Barry that he wouldn't go after him and he was always a man of his words.  

What made him change his mind? 

What really happened tonight?

Julian raised his head and stared into the mirror while freezing cold water continued to run pointlessly over his hands. Two large, haunted blue eyes were staring back at him, blank and bottomless, as if they belonged on the face of a dead man. He didn’t kill Simmons. He didn’t.

Did he?

Barry’s exhausted face suddenly appeared in the mirror, his presence dark and heavy pressing against the air behind Julian’s back.

“It’s done. I removed all evidence that could implicate you. The police will have nothing to tie you to the case.”

His voice lacked any emotion, eyes refusing to meet Julian’s in the mirror. What did he want to hear? _Thanks for being so fucking sure about my being a killer that you felt the need to destroy the goddamn crime scene?_

Julian turned off the faucet and turned away from his haunted reflection to face Barry. Water dripped down his arms and he shivered. Simmons’ blood was still all over him. He was practically a walking piece of evidence himself. Was Barry going to get rid of him, too?

The thought sent a sharp pang through his scalp and he squeezed his eyes shut against the searing pain.

“Barry-”

“You need to leave town, Julian.” 

And just like that, the world tipped to one side. Julian grabbed the basin from behind to prevent a nasty fall into a reality he couldn’t cope being thrust into so unceremoniously. “What?” 

Barry’s eyes finally flickered up to meet his. The green was so faded and dark that the eyes looked almost unfamiliar. “I committed a crime for you. I covered up the evidence, left the corpse in the woods to rot until the cops or someone else would find it. I can’t...I can’t look at you without remembering what happened; what I had to do to ensure your safety and freedom.”

He sounded like he was only a breath away from breaking down and was doing all he could to stop that from happening, through the blasé expression, flat voice, gaze fleeting across the blond’s face, not daring to linger, as if afraid to find something ugly there, the face of a monster. Julian took a few steps forward, exiting the bathroom and coming so close to Barry that he could taste his revulsion on the tip of his own tongue. Julian knew he reeked of blood...a dead man's blood. 

“But...but I didn’t do it, Barry. I didn’t kill him. Why don’t you fucking believe me?” He reached out a hand toward Barry, watery blood dripping down his wrist as if he was the one bleeding. Barry leaned away from the contact, eyes following the path of the blood down Julian’s fingers, hypnotized and appalled. 

“Why should I?” His tone was imploring, almost pleading, as if he really needed Julian to give him a reason to believe him. 

Julian could only think of one. “Because you love me?” 

And he really needed Barry to believe in his innocence because his mind was a mess of tangled wires and he needed outside help to make sense of what had happened to him. If Barry believed that Julian hadn't killed the meta criminal, then it would become easier for the blond to believe that as well.

The corner of Barry’s lips lifted in a faint, bitter smile. “I hid the truth of what you did because I loved you. I don’t love you that much to be able to deny that truth to myself.” 

Something broke then. Like cold sweats over his skin. Like his voice in his throat before he could even form coherent sentences in his mind. Like sweet promises and cherished memories that now felt like they belonged to a different timeline. No, not his heart though, because at this point he would be unable to feel it even if it did break.

And maybe it had. He wouldn't know.

Julian just stood there frozen, with bloodied water running down his arms and dripping on the floor in place of the tears that he knew he would be forever unable to shed over a heart that he wouldn't even know if it ever got broken.

What an absolute mess…his head and his heart.

Maybe it was a kind thing to do, getting out of Barry Allen’s life.

“Just leave Central City, okay? Go back to Washington or London or wherever...don’t try to contact me again. At least not for a long while. I need to come to terms with what happened tonight.”

But Julian didn’t know how to be kind. All he could manage at this point was to hold back his feelings and pretend to be indifferent to it all in a half-hearted attempt to preserve his pride. “So...this is goodbye?”

“You knew this would happen and yet you went and jeopardized our relationship anyway. So, I don’t think it’ll upset you too much to stay away from me for a while.”

A while. He was supposed to leave Central City and never come back. How long was a while?

“You...you just destroyed the crime scene, how can I prove my innocence now?”

Barry took Julian’s gun, the wrinkled tie, and the bullet he had retrieved from Simmons’ chest out of his pockets. He then grabbed Julian’s right hand none too gently and placed each item on his open palm. “Here, this is all the evidence you need.”

Julian looked from his hand still in Barry’s warmer grasp up at the brunette’s face. A spell of nausea hit Julian then, looking up at the face of his lover and not recognizing it anymore. The touch suddenly felt intrusive, unwelcome, wrong. His fingers coiled around the ‘evidence’ and he broke contact with Barry’s skin as if he had been burned.

“You should’ve let me handle it.”

Barry shook his head, a sad, pitying smile on his lips. “Would you have rather gone to prison instead?”

“I didn’t kill him.” Julian stared defiantly at Barry, shoulders held back and eyes intense and unrelenting. He might have lost everything – his lover, his job, his home, his fucking mind, but he would hold onto this belief that he was innocent for all it was worth.

“Well, good luck with your denial; I hope it makes you sleep better at night.” Barry nodded his head at Julian, expression open and sincere. “Goodbye, Julian. Please do the right thing this time and don’t be here by tomorrow night.”

He turned on his heel and began a quick walk to the front door, not even bothering to wait for Julian’s response. And what would he have said, if he had the will to say it?

_You promised me always. I forgave you for what you did last month because I fucking loved you. Why can't you do the same for me now? And I’m still recovering from what Simmons did to my mind, I didn’t tell you half of the things that bastard did to me, he deserved to die and you can’t just leave me alone with my broken mind. Come back, you coward!_

But the words were lodged behind his clenched teeth and his voice was lost.

 _Don't leave me, don't leave me, don’t leave me._..the mantra echoed with urgency inside his head, like praying to a nonexistent God over a dying beloved. The front door shut with a bang behind Barry like the sound of a bullet fired from a gun. Julian’s eyes snapped close at the sound, startled and distraught and he took a sharp breath and almost bit into his tongue. He let his still outstretched arm fall to his side. The gun and the bullet fell on the carpeted floor with a dull thud.

 

*******

 

Barry rolls heavily to his side, dragging the sheet across his face and hair to wipe the sweats off. He lets out a long, shuddering breath in the darkness of his bedroom as images swirl in a dizzying pattern inside his head.

He remembers now. How everything came to an end between Julian and his past self. Julian had killed someone and Barry had been forced to cover up for him at the price of not being able to see him again.

Barry smiles, in spite of it all. In the haze of the memory slowly sliding into place in his brain, he doesn't really care about any of this at all. What Julian had done and what the other Barry had been forced to do to protect the man he loved were all part of a life that the Barry now is not concerned about.

He will go see Julian in the precinct today, tell him he remembers everything and that he has moved on.

They will have another chance at this relationship and Barry will make sure not to mess it up this time. 

The smile grows warmer and happier on his face as he buries his head into the pillow, willing the hours to pass more quickly so he can meet Julian and tell him everything is alright now.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh, I've read this part so many times that I'm not sure how to feel about it anymore. I hope it didn't disappoint! Did anyone guess that this was the reason for their breakup? I'd been leaving little clues throughout the chapters :) The mysteries of course are far from over. We still need to find out what really happened between Julian and Simmons that night.   
> Thank you for reading and supporting this fic, it really means a lot <3


	13. Chapter 12

 

> _...and then I realized how stupid, how utterly terrible, love is. Whatever can hurt cannot heal._

 

“Barry! What have you done?”

Barry immediately rises to his feet, the office chair pushed back to the far end of the lab in his haste. The sudden appearance of Caitlin in such a distressed state has set off alarms in his head. “What? What’s going on?”

“You tell me! What did you do to Julian?”

“W-what...what's wrong with Julian?” He stutters in his panic. He hasn’t yet checked with Joe about how Julian is doing. It’s still too early for that particular ritual.  

Plus, today is a special day. He is going to tell Julian that he has remembered everything and he has forgiven all. Seven months is a long enough time to get over even the biggest of misunderstandings. Barry can’t afford any slip-up this time.

Caitlin lets out a deep breath, red lips coming back together in the shape of a thin line. Her shoulders held back, tense and slightly shaking in what Barry presumes to be contained anger, and she takes a few more steps into the lab, high-heeled shoes thumping authoritatively along the ground. As she draws closer, a cold gust of wind blows almost unnoticeably under Barry’s shirt, making goosebumps break all over his skin without even ruffling the material. Barry crosses his arms over his chest to ward off the cold as his eyes look in the direction of the windows. He frowns. The windows are all tightly shut.

Caitlin stops a few steps short of entering Barry’s personal space, her breaths almost fogging in front of her. “Last night he called me and said he wanted to meet me at the precinct today, but Joe told me downstairs that he hasn’t come in yet. He also said I should wait for Julian in the storeroom as this has been his makeshift lab for the past couple of weeks.”

Caitlin gives Barry a dark look, “and neither of you told me anything about this new arrangement. Why is he avoiding you?”

Barry almost shrinks under Caitlin’s withering look. “Well, I…”

“And no lies, Barry!”

Barry thinks hard back to when Julian decided to get relocated to another lab so as to put some distance between them. He remembers sun-warmed blond strands sliding through his fingers, blue eyes falling shut as Barry pushed the pliant body further against the windowpane, the icy smell of musk and conifer on a pale, slender neck contrasting sharply with the heady taste of Julian’s lips. His face heats up as the memory settles languidly on the forefront of his mind, like soft powdery snow falling on rough concrete. “We...kissed.”

And just for a moment, Barry feels pangs of doubt upsetting the careful construction of that memory. Did they really kiss? It feels like ancient history to him now, everything he feels for the blond so disintegrated and nebulous, so desperate and despondent.

And so guilt-ridden, too, Barry thinks he deserves to be looked at the way Caitlin is looking at him now, like he has gone and slipped into the deep end despite all the warning signs.  

“Barry. You promised to leave Julian alone.” She sounds admonishing, disappointed, tired. Barry can’t hold her gaze for long, so he turns his head to the side, and his eyes land on Julian’s desk that has not been removed when the blond left. The brass nameplate is gone, though. Barry remembers the first time he read Julian’s name aloud from the plate and locked eyes with the man as he dismissed him with a cold, clipped greeting. That day suddenly feels to belong to many years ago, another timeline altogether, a moment in time that Barry barely lived through before it was erased, or buried under too much unsavory emotions.

What is it about Julian that he can’t just let go, even when the past and the present have become entangled to the point where nothing makes much sense anymore?

 _Love_ …where does one draw the line? How can one let go?

Barry heaves a sigh in frustration, fingers combing through his hair in a restless fashion. “I know. I’m sorry. But you don’t know how it is. Being in love with him. It’s not easy to stay away.”

“I don’t remember you being so selfish.”

Has being in love with Julian changed him that much? Or perhaps Caitlin has not been paying much attention. Barry can throw away all regard for his safety when he is being a hero to Central City, but when it comes to matters of the heart, he won’t think twice about destroying the whole timeline and everyone else in it to get what he wants. He has always been selfish, but his friends have been so understanding. Not this time around, though. And Barry, in an almost masochistic streak, is grateful for it. “I did something else too.”

Perhaps confessing would do good for the guilt and shame that have been collecting on his conscience for a while; he is in need of some serious housecleaning. He is in need of a friend to listen to his side of the story and tell him he has done the right thing, after all. Maybe, he just needs help.  

Caitlin purses her lips, and gives him a cold, demanding stare. “Tell me.”

“I went back in time. Several times. To be with him.” The words scrape the back of his throat as they leave his mouth, leaving a taste of something rotten on his tongue. He doesn’t know why admitting to his efforts for being in Julian’s company is making him so anxious and slightly nauseated. Perhaps it’s Caitlin’s chastising, withering look.

“Barry...do you even know what you’re saying? This is...this enters into nonconsensual territory.”

“What? No, it’s not like that. Julian was okay with it.” _Nonconsensual_? Now there is a word Barry will never associate with his relationship with Julian.

Caitlin shakes her head in exasperation, dark blond hair bouncing off her bare shoulders. “Of course he would be. He thought you were his Barry.”

“I _am_ his Barry.”

“No, you’re not. Don't you understand? You’re not the past Barry. He doesn't exist anymore. He’s dead, erased from the timeline. You might have acquired his memories, but you’re a completely different person, Barry.”

“Why would you say that?” He is now truly uncomfortable with the direction their conversation has taken, but he has to know. “That I’m…that I’m different?”

“Well, I notice things, you know? Like how you drink your coffee differently, the fact that you had used to be in love with Iris and the other Barry had never dated a girl in his entire life. You have a different taste in music, the other Barry had a thing for hoodies.” Caitlin gives a pause and looks determined at Barry. “What was your GPA in high school?”

“5. Why?”

“The other Barry’s was 4.7. His most favorite subject at university was toxicology. You told me a couple of weeks ago that yours was biochemistry.”

Barry wants to let out a sigh of relief, but the air gets stuck in his throat. “Caitlin, come on, these differences are so insignificant. They don’t mean anything...it’s like, it’s like growing up. You go through some changes but it doesn’t mean you’re a completely different person.”

Barry knows he has made a valid point, but Caitlin doesn’t look convinced. “But doesn’t it? Have you ever wondered about your feelings for Julian, about the possibility of having none of them right now if you hadn’t acquired the other Barry’s memories? Would you have been in love with him at this moment or proposing to Iris instead?”

The idea is absurd, and impossible, and somehow terrifying all at once. Barry can afford doubting the reality of his intimate moments with Julian, but not the reality of his feelings for him. “What I feel for Julian is my own, okay?” He sounds defensive and slightly panicked. He refuses to let Caitlin’s words get to him. “I’m sure I’d still fall for him if I’d met him in the original timeline, or...or anywhere else in the goddamn multiverse.”

Caitlin lets out a sigh in frustration. “Okay, how about we look at this from another angle? Do you remember Hannibal Bates?”

Barry gives a short nod, feeling apprehensive about where this part of conversation is going.  

“When he shapeshifted into you, he kissed me. I’d punch him right in the face if I knew it wasn’t you. Granted, I still wanted to slap you for pulling that stunt on me, but at least I recognized you as a friend and trusted you. Now imagine the same scenario for Julian, in which you are the shapeshifter tricking Julian into thinking that you’re the Barry he has fallen in love with. Would you not call that nonconsensual?”

“I didn't...I didn’t think of it like that.”

“Of course you didn't. You just don't think at all when you become single minded in going after what you quite subjectively think is right. Look, Barry, you have to tell him. He already knows you’re the Flash. What's one less secret?”

Somehow, the realization that Julian knows he is the Flash completely goes over his head in the face of all his bigger problems. “It’s not about keeping secrets, Cait. If I tell him now, the chances of getting him back will be ruined for good.”

“Barry, this isn't about you anymore. This is about him. And if you don’t tell him right now, I will.”

The promise is real, shining with conviction in her honey-colored eyes. Barry feels his heart bottom out.

“You can’t do that.”

Caitlin dismisses his emotion-drained plea with a determined shake of her head. “You need a lot of groveling to do, Barry Allen. You’ve manipulated Julian, gotten close to him, let him think you’re the man he was in love with. Please tell me you didn't sleep with him.”

Barry keeps silent, not because he is ashamed to admit it, or suddenly feels shy. Thinking about that night and remembering what happened between Julian and the past Barry the morning after hurts his heart. He fucked up. He hurt Julian in the worst possible way and isn’t sure if the blond ever forgave him for that.

Maybe Caitlin is right. He shouldn’t have gotten involved. He shouldn’t have fallen in love. He should have stopped this obsession before he lost control over it all.

But what can he do now?

His drawn-out silence and cast-away eyes tell Caitlin all she needed to know. “Oh god, Barry. How could you be so self-centered?”

Barry balls his hands into fists, shoulders tense and heart hammering away in his chest as if it’s about to phase through his tissues and bones to get outside.

“I did all of this because I love him, okay? I love him and he still has feelings for me. Everything I’ve done was so we could have another chance together. He’s been miserable without me, Cait.”

“Not you,” but she shakes her head in exasperation as their argument falls back to square one.

It’s not that Barry doesn’t want to listen to Caitlin’s interpretation of the events. He’s just scared of losing the last thread of control he is barely holding around the situation.

Caitlin’s hand suddenly wraps around Barry’s wrist and pulls him toward the door. “Come on, let’s go.”

“What? Where?”

“We're going to pay Julian a visit and you’re going tell him everything. I’ll be there making sure you’re not leaving anything out.”

He’s the Flash, he can easily pull his hand out of that tight hold and speed over to the other side of the planet to keep away from this for a while. But he allows his body to be manhandled toward the exit at the same time as he pleads with his long-time friend, “Caitlin, please don’t do this.”

Perhaps, deep inside his subconscious, he really wishes for all secrets to finally come to light. He is scared of losing Julian again, but he is also exhausted and disgusted at himself for having lied so much only to justify it all with love.

“Do the right thing, Barry. If you really love him, tell him everything. Beg for his forgiveness. You've hurt him long enough. You have to stop it.”

Perhaps, things need to fall apart before they can fall back together once more. Perhaps things would not even fall apart if Barry could say the right words and Julian was willing to listen to them.

Barry just needs to be brave enough to take that chance, to let go of Julian’s hand in the hopes that Julian would someday reach back.

He just needs to stop being a coward once and for all.

 

 

*******

 

Julian is not answering the door; he is not picking up his phone, and the terrible pang of deja vu hits Barry hard across the head like a ton of bricks suddenly dropped on him from the sky.

“Barry, what are you doing?”

With his hand phasing through the front door of Julian’s apartment, Barry turns toward Caitlin whose honey-colored eyes are clouded with concern.

“Gonna take a look inside.” He says matter-of-factly, trying to stifle the incessant murmurs of panic under his skin.

This isn’t like the memory of his past self, where he found Julian deep inside the woods over Simmons' dead body, Barry keeps telling himself to keep his breathing under control.

“But, that’s not....I don’t think Julian would want you to invade his privacy like that.”

“He may be needing help, Cait.” He lets out a short sigh as his mind comes under attack by images of Julian alone, hurt and terrified.

Why do these things keep happening to him?

Caitlin’s brows draw together as conflicted emotions swim around her eyes. “Alright,” she finally concedes, biting her lower lip in worry. “Just be quick.”

“I always am.” He gives a loose smile that doesn’t really reach his eyes before phasing through the door and leaving Caitlin on the quiet street in the upscale neighborhood.

It only takes Barry two minutes to come back, expression drawn and shoulders tensed. He exhales slowly through his mouth, while Caitlin keeps her eyes on his frowning face with bated breath.

“I found this open at this page on the table.”

Caitlin takes the notebook from Barry’s outstretched hand and her heart beats more forcefully against her ribcage as her eyes take into the two words scribbled on the page with a red marker in huge, shaky letters: _HES HERE_

Disregarding her previous concerns for Julian’s privacy now that his safety seems to have been compromised, Caitlin leafs through the notebook, realizing that it is a journal of sorts. Mostly entries about things he had done on a particular day written in a neat, sophisticated handwriting, sometimes quotes, numbers and codes, some drawings on the margins, and then there were pages with only a few words written on them as if in a hurry, bold and shaky and mostly in red. One particular page made something twist painfully inside Caitlin's chest, like a scalpel sinking jaggedly and repeatedly into her soft tissues.

A huge NO has taken up almost the whole page, written with so much force that the letters has torn into the paper, as if some great force had been trying to drag Julian away and he had been digging his pen into the paper in order to keep himself grounded.

Caitlin is barely registering Barry’s words at this point, telling her about the upturned chairs and broken glasses on the floor, the telltale signs of struggle.

“Oh my god. Barry, we have to find Julian. Right now.” She rasps out the words as she closes the notebook with shaking hands. An awful sense of foreboding has settled down into the pit of her stomach like thick sludge.  
  
Barry gives a short nod with a grim expression, “Okay,” and flashes Caitlin to the STAR Labs.

 

*******

 

His hands coil around the hard plastic arm pads of the chair he finds himself slumped in. For some reason, he does not feel the rough texture of ropes around his wrists, or anywhere else on his body. He tries to bring his legs together. The move is sluggish but he feels his knees bump together, unrestrained.

This is odd as far as his repeated experience of being kidnapped goes. He is not tied down to his chair, and yet he can feel all the symptoms of regaining consciousness after having been out for a while due to some, hopefully, minor head trauma.

His kidnapper is definitely an amateur if they thought they could put Julian out of commission just by giving him a concussion. At this point, he may as well start to call himself ‘The-Man-Who-Got-Kidnapped-A-Lot’, or ‘The-Man-Who-Got-Too-Many-Concussions-But-Refused-To-Go-Nuts’.

Julian’s sense of humor is just as dry as his mouth right now.

“You always put up great resistance when I call upon you, that’s why I have to resort to...some mild violence. I apologize for the mistreatment.”

The voice jars Julian out of his thoughts. There is a disturbing familiarity to that slightly amused, highly confident tone that makes Julian’s heartbeats speed up in anticipation.

Julian finally opens his eyes with great difficulty, finding his vision blurred around the edges. He blinks a few times as his pupils adjust to the light and his sight slowly comes into focus. When the room stops expanding and shrinking, he takes note of black leather shoes standing firmly on concrete ground, and a long dark green robe that comes all the way down to the man’s ankles, leather gloved hands resting motionless on his sides. Julian has to strain his neck and tip his head back to be able to look at the man’s face. The move causes the nerve endings in his neck to groan in discomfort and he has to squeeze his eyes shut against a new wave of pain shooting across his forehead like a bolt of electricity. When he opens his eyes again, his vision is less blurred and his head feels less like a concrete block on his neck. He recognizes that beaked, plague doctor mask anywhere.

“Hello, Julian.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm...so, I know it's been quite a while, and I won't be surprised if no one is reading this anymore, which is all my fault, I know...I think the fact that Tom won't be returning to season 4 has somehow taken away my inspiration or sth. But the thing is, I have made the whole outlines for this fic since ages ago, I have pictured the last chapter so many times, even down to the dialogues and the expressions...so I will be doing my best to see this fic through. My original outline for this story included 15,16 chapters, so we're not too far from the end of this journey.  
> Thank you everyone who supported me until now, I seriously couldn't have done it without your kind words.


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